


Hitting the Broken Road

by TheRancidDwarf



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRancidDwarf/pseuds/TheRancidDwarf
Summary: Waking up in the ruins of America has been a nightmare, but ex-soldier and mother Alysa has found herself trying to make the best of it. Piecing together the commonwealth is not a task to be taken lightly, but with her two companions, she finds hope, love, and maybe a chance at a future.
Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine, John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Nick Valentine, John Hancock/Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	1. A Good, Good Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't gotten to writing in a really long time, but I cant get these three goofballs out of my head.

“Alright, alright. Next time we listen to _you_.” Alysa huffed as she limped down one of the destroyed streets of Boston. Once upon a time, she’d have known exactly where she was, but the wreckage certainly got in the way.  
  
”It would have taken a few hours longer, but avoiding the commons is usually a smart move.” The old synth walked beside her, a hand out just in case she took a tumble. She’d refused his help, but he didn’t exactly want to watch her take a dive.

“It was a good plan! Who knew those raiders would follow us all the way there. I am not the one who shot Swan ok? That was a _completely_ unforeseen circumstance. I hope he ate ‘im.” The blonde squinted at the glowing Goodneighbor sign at the end of the path. “Thank god.”

“You wanna stop and get a stimpak in that leg?” Nick pulled a smoke from his pack to hold between his lips, offering one Alysa. They’d gotten through a good portion of the Boston ruins without problem, but they weren’t as sneaky as they’d thought.

“Once we get inside, with a firm gate between us and swan.” There was no way that the giant had followed them this far, they’d have heard him long before they reached Goodneighbor, but she’d been caught with her pants down too many times for one day, and she was in no mood. She eyes the carton held out to her and paused for a moment to pop a smoke between her lips and light it. Behind her dogmeat nudged the back of her legs, probably searching for some sort of comfort.

“Fair enough,” Nick stuffed the pack away and lit his own, the two standing there for a moment, Alysa’s gaze darting from the road behind them to the neon lights. “I should warn you about Goodneighbor. It’s a rough little town. Skinny? He was from Goodneighbor.”

“Let’s hope he didn’t have any friends.” Alysa took a deep drag before limping once again towards the door. She was sure her ankle wasn’t broken, but it was definitely sprained. Reaching the door, she shouldered it open, shuffling inside.

\--

“Fehr. Don’t worry about it. I’m not worried about Bobbi. She ain’t stupid enough to fuck with me, and if she does? That’s what I got you for right?” The ghoul clapped a hand to Farenheit’s shoulder. The woman, whose head was half shaved did nothing but hive him a stern look, hardly different then any other day. He barked a laugh at her, adjusting the tricorn hat on his head as he heard the door to Goodneighbor slam shut. His dark eyes turned to the door and the woman that had staggered through it, Nick valentine in tow.

Her blonde hair was in a tight braid that ran along her head, extending down her shoulder, but it was hell of a mess, sticking out in every direction. The blue of her vault suit stuck out like a sore thumb against the filthy wasteland, accented in a patchwork of mismatched armor. It wasn’t often that a woman that looked like that wandered into their little town. He let out a low chuckle, taking a step forward to greet their new guest, freezing as Finn did the same. This was a good opportunity to see how she handled herself. Finn was an old timer in Goodneighbor, been around since the days of Vic. Didn’t mean he was any less of a dickhead, though.

“Hey, hold up there!” Finn barked, lighting up a smoke before laying a hand on his hip, resting on his pistol.

Alysa had been busy looking around, taking in the town. She recognized the old state house and was about to make a comment when a rough looking bald guy caught her attention.

“Oh look Nick, it’s the _welcoming committee_.” She could feel the warning coming from Nick as the guy approached, but she held up a hand. Dogmeat also stopped his advances, his quiet growls just barely audible.

“First time in Goodneighbor? Cant go walking around without some insurance.” So he was one of those.

“Unless it’s ‘keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me’ insurance, I’m not interested. Walk away before this gets ugly, and you have enough of that already.”   
  
”Now don’t be like that, I think you’re gonna like what I got on offer.”

“Doubt it.” Alysa watched as he stepped forward, his hand tightening around his weapon, she could smell him now, though she couldn’t honestly tell if it was his bad breath, or just him in general.

“You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or ‘accidents’ start happenin’ to ya. Big, bloody ‘accidents’.”

“Oh gee mister! We don’t want any accidents now do we?” Alysa pushed her pack off her shoulder, putting it on the ground. The man gave a chuckle, but the grin was swiftly wiped off his face as the blonde’s fist snapped forward landing right on his nose, a jet of blood streaming down his face.

“You little bitch!” his hands reached up to stanch the blood, smoke and pistol temporarily forgotten about. “Gimme your shit now, or your dead. Might even just kill you anyways.” He dropped one hand, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes, grabbing for that fucking pistol again.

“Whoa, whoa. Time out.” The new voice caught both of their attention, the mugger immediately taking his hand off his weapon.

Alysa watched as a man walked out from the shadows of the building. Adorning some colonial costume, he moved towards them, and as the light hit his face, she had to suppress her open urge to grab for her weapon. Ghoul. So these were the ghouls Preston had told her about. The ones who weren’t going to try to rip her face off… but she honestly had her doubts in this town if he’d pull a weapon out instead. At least it was a quicker death.

“Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a _guest_. You lay off that extortion crap.”

“What do you care? She ain’t one of us.” the mugger spat, still trying to stop the bleeding.

“No love for your Mayor, Finn? I said let her go.” His voice was gravely, perhaps the effects of ghoulification, though she knew a couple of old army guys that had a scratchy voice from years of smoking.

“You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day… there will be a new mayor.”

“This isn’t gonna be good.” grunted Nick, startling Alysa ever so slightly. She had forgotten he was there. The ghoul grinned, but there was something to it that just screamed ‘dangerous’ as he stepped towards Finn.

“Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell ya somethin’.” he held an arm out to draw him in, like he was about to tell Finn a secret. And then stabbed him. And stabbed him again, and again. “Now why’d ya have to go and say something like that huh? Breaking my heart over here.” Alysa stared, absolutely stunned at the event she’d just witnessed. Finn crumpled to the ground holding his stomach for a few moments before going still.

“Well, _that’s_ a welcome that can never be topped.” she muttered to herself as the ghoul stepped over the man to get closer, and the closer he got the more she could make out the details of his face. His skin was covered in a layer of scars, no doubt from radiation burn. His nose was completely gone, giving him the look of a skull, especially with his jet black eyes that stared down at her from the shade of his hat.

“You alright, sister?” he asked, looking down at her. She was not a tall person. Just over five foot, but this guy had some height, which only added to his imposing nature.

“I’m alive.” she said, unable to tear her eyes away from his face. He pursed his lips for a moment, the skin of his forehead moving. If he’d had eyebrows she was sure he’d have cocked one of them.

“Like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies.” She was staring. Hard. Alysa let out the huff of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Great first impression, girl. He stabs a man to save your ass, and you stare at him like he's some sort of monster.

“I don’t doubt it.” she quipped back, earning a bark of laughter from the ghoul, his hands finding their way to his hips.

“I’m a ghoul you see? Lot of walking rad freaks like me around here, so you might wanna keep that startled radstag look off your face. Goodneighbor’s of the people, _for the people_ , you feel me? Everyone’s welcome.”

“Of the people, for the people? Oh, brother…” Alysa let out a hiss when she realized her smoke had burned down to the filter, her fingers catching the head. “Shit!” The ghoul laughed as she angrily threw the but down, stomping on it. “That asshole made me waste a smoke.”

“I can tell I’m gonna like you already. Just consider this town, your home away from home. So long as you remember who’s incharge.” he jerked his head in the direction of Finn. “Heya Nicky, workin’ hard as always ain’t cha?”

“Always a case in the commonwealth, Hancock. Good seein’ ya.” The synth stepped forward, reaching with his ruined hand, giving Hancock’s a shake.

“Take a break why don’t ya? Come down to the third rail later. Bring your better half.” Hancock winked as he let go of Nick’s hand, tipping his hat to Alysa before stalking off towards the door of the old state house. A woman, who she hadn’t noticed leaning on the wall to the gun shop followed him, casting Alysa a backward glance before disappearing.

“Nicky? I take it you’re acquainted.” The blonde scooped up her bag, limping around Finn to reach one of the benches, dropping down into it.

“Hancock and I go way bag. Rough man, but his heart is in the right place. Usually.” Alysa dug through her pack, pulling out the smaller bag of stimpaks. She could have just wrapped her ankle, but she wasn’t feeling up to limping for a few days.

“Well, let’s get this ankle right, and then we can sell some of this crap and get to the memory den.” She’d been wandering the commonwealth for a good six months, learning everything she could while working for the Minutemen before heading into the Boston ruins. She was eager, yes, but her training taught her to never walk into a situation unprepared, now that she was, she wanted to move forward. She wanted to find her son.

“If anyone can get something off that piece of noggin, it’s Dr. Amari. Smart as a whip that one.”

“I hope so Nick. This feels like the only shot we’ve got. This got complicated fast. What the hell do they even want with a baby?” She rolled down the top of her book and carefully aimed the stimpak, pushing the liquid into her leg before pulling it out. It gave that uncomfortable throb that told you it was working before the pain slightly ebbed. Dogmeat, who hadn’t moved from when she put her hand up barked. “Come here, boy.” she called, releasing him from his hold. He trotted over, tail wagging, face rubbing up on Alysa’s knee as she gave him a good scratch. “You’re a good boy, always doin’ what you’re told. You’ve earned yourself some extra snacks tonight.”

“I can’t tell you why they took your boy, but we’ll find a way to get him back.” Nick nodded down at the pooch as he took a seat on the opposite side of the bench.

“I’m glad you have so much faith. Every step I take to get closer to him it feels like he gets further away.” She reached over and gently squeezed his shoulder. They’d been travelling together for about a month and a half now, and she couldn’t have picked a better companion, a better friend. She had been skeptical at first, after all of diamond city’s talk of synths, but upon meeting the gen 2 beside her, she questioned everything. He was kind, determined and smoother then a cold beer on a hot summer’s day. He was a good shot too, which was useful in a world where everything was trying to kill you.

The pain in her ankle had subsided enough that she felt comfortable standing up, using Nick, for leverage.

“It’s still tender, but it’ll do.” She gave it a test, wincing just a little before looking over at the shop. Leaning on the front counter was another ghoul. Her hair was neatly brushed, with high cheek bones and a strong chin. Even with her nose missing, she was very pretty.

“Oh, A new face walks into my store, and you’re not even screaming. Yet. Very polite. You let me know what catches your fancy.” she said as Alysa approached, backpack slung over her shoulder. The woman’s voice had a gravely sound to it, not so pronounced as Hancock’s but Alysa was sure that it was a ghoul thing. Radiation couldn’t be good for the vocal chords.  
  
”Screaming? Why would I scream at you? Does that happen often?”

“Mhmm. Some newcomers have never seen a ghoul before. Can’t handle a friendly face, I say.” Alysa cracked a smile at her. “So, you need some supplies?”

“I do, actually, and I got a bunch of stuff to sell. Never and end to the stuff you can find laying around the commonwealth.” Alysa popped open her bag, putting out some of the junk she had collected, it wouldn’t be worth much, but every little bit added up.

“Don’t go bothering telling me any of this is family heirloom, I’m probably older then it anyways.”

“Older then family heirlooms? I don’t get it.” Perhaps it was some kind of Ghoul joke she hadn’t heard before. She glanced over her shoulder at Nick who was too far away to hear, or give her some kind of hint. He was still seated on the bench, but he had a teddy bear in his hand, that dogmeat had the other end of. The ghoul laughed, shaking her head.

“I look pretty good for being over 220 years old.”

“Wait wait wait… You’re 220 years old??” The woman made a face.

“Okay, okay, it’s more like 270 years, but don’t go blabbing that to everyone. Being a ghoul means you like a long time. Ya stop counting birthdays.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Do you know what it’s like being that old?”

Alysa let out a loud ‘ha!’ and crossed her arms.

“I do actually, funnily enough.” It was stupid perhaps, but part of her just got really excited. Obviously, she had spent most of her life at this point stuck in a freezer, but to have other folks that remembered the time before the war? That was new.

“We’ll now you’re just makin’ fun a me. If you were as old as I was, you’s have been around since before the war.” somewhere under the sultry scratchy voice was a southern twang. “So let’s hear it. Come on, tell me what it was like before the war, if you’re so ancient.” For a moment Alysa’s face dropped. Trying to explain pre-war life to anyone but Nick was explaining the sky to someone who lived underground.

“It was loud and noisy, but not like it is now. Cars on every road. There was music and dancing, and schools. If people carried guns they wouldn’t pull em out to shoot you for just walking up the road. There was good food, and parties, remember dinner parties? Get all dressed up, go over to your neighbors house and make friendlies even though you probably went home and complained about them as soon as they were out of earshot.” Alysa looked up to see a sad kinda smile on Daisy’s face. “It was peaceful, in its own sort of way.”

“It was wasn’t it?” She suddenly sniffed and blinked her eyes rapidly a few times. “Sorry, last thing you wanna see is an old lady tearing up.” she took a deep breath and stood straight, clearly pushing away the emotions that had sprung up. Alysa couldn’t blame her. “Well, you’re either the best preserved ghoul I’ve ever seen, or you’re the second best bullshitter in Goodneighbor.”

“It’s not bullshit, I promise. I was in a vault.” Alysa pulled at her vaultsuit. “We thought it was gonna be like a home away from home, but the bastards froze us like tv dinners. Waking up to this place was worse then waking up to a one night stand running your place like a bat out of hell.” This earned a chuckle.

“I like you, kid. You’re funny. Let’s take a look at what you’ve got, but while you’re here, you should check out the Hotel Rexford. There’s another pre-war ghoul hangin around. I’m sure he’d like to meet ya.”

\--

Alysa’s pack was considerably lighter as she walked away from Daisy’s shop, her bag of caps heavier. Dogmeat got his extra food, and she had enough supplies for at least the journey back to diamond city, with some caps left to rent a room if needed for a night or two. That was one thing about doing work with the Minutemen, the settlements always had a spare bed for her to lay her head down for a while if need be, though sleeping in the commonwealth had not been easy. When she and nick found a room or small abandoned place to whole up in she felt better though, knowing someone was there to watch her back. 

They passed the weapons shop, and Alysa almost laughed at the fact that an assaultron was standing at the counter. She couldn’t think of a better shopkeeper. She also pitied the fool that tried to rob the place. She’d run into one assaultron on their way, and if it weren’t for the missile launcher she had looted from a nearby body, she’d probably have been a pile of ash on the broken road. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine and her hair stood on end. She would make it her mission to befriend the robot. At the very least to make sure she didn’t get her face blown off. Rounding the corner she looked up at the balcony of the old state house, the old subway entrance below it, her thought from earlier springing up into her head.

“When I was in highschool, we had a field trip here. We saw a bunch of different places, the old north church, the state house, this place. Nice to see at least some of it still stands.” She’d seen so much of the city destroyed, falling to pieces. Old masonry held up well apparently. “Guess they knew what they were doing way back then.”

“Too bad they didn’t leave an instruction manual lying around.” said nick, casting a glance to the building. His brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to dig through the old Nick’s memories to find one of the old state house. Nothing really sprung up besides a feeling of nostalgia.

“I don’t know what kind of shape the Boston library is in, but we could check it out eventually if we’re passing by. Could be something useful. I doubt raiders and super mutants have need for old books… except for maybe fire kindling.” that was a sad thought. All the history and knowledge that they could use to help out the settlers up in smoke. She forced the thought out of her mind as she turned her gaze forward, spotting the fancy looking building. The old sign hanging above. She couldn’t remember what it used to be, but in the shadow of the doorway was a sign that read ‘The Memory Den’. Next stop? Shaun.

Nick went in first, Alysa following behind with dogmeat on her heels. He licked her hand as they entered the room full of large glass domed loungers. Considering the state of the rest of Goodneighbor, the place looked pretty spiffy. Immediately Nick stepped towards a woman on a recliner at the other end of the room.

“Well, well. Mister Valentine. I thought you had forgotten about little ol’ me.” she purred. Alysa’s stomach gave a little twist. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She’d have to make sure she handled that later.

“I may have walked out of the den, Irma but I’d never walk out on _you_.” Smooth as a cold beer. Her stomach gave another little twist as she tried to tune out of the conversation, she felt like she was eavesdropping on something personal, and she wasn’t going to intrude. A cardboard cut out caught her attention, her face lighting up.

“Would you look at that, it’s the silver shroud.” she walked up to it, tracing her fingers around the edges. Considering it was 200 years old it was in pretty good shape. Memories sprung to mind of her and her nefew going out to get the latest holotapes and comics. Sitting together way passed his bed time when she was babysitting to read them, much to the dismay of her sister. Billy. Carol… what had happened to them? Had they made it into a vault? No. Stop. This was not the time. This was not the place. ‘Bury that shit right now.’ she demanded in her head, looking over to Irma and Nick who were still chatting.

Alysa let out a gasp, her hands snapping back from the cutout as the door beside her popped open.

“ _Oh!_ ” came the voice of the person standing on the other side of it. He’d let go of the door, a hand over his heart. There was a moment of silence as they caught their breaths staring at one another. He was a ghoul, not very tall and sporting and old tanned suit that had definitely taken a beating. “I didn’t mean to scare you miss. Though you did me quite a fright too.”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be lingering in doorways. I was just looking at the cutout. I used to be really big on the Shroud back in the day.” Her heart was still thudding against her ribs.

“Y-you like The Silver shroud?” His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. “I play it on the radio, It’s nice to have some kind of escape.”

“Escape?”

“Goodneighbor’s crazy. Thefts, m-murders, worse. It’s nice to go back to the old days, reliving old memories. Like Thanksgiving 2071. Ma made a twelve pound turkey, and then we all listened to “The silver shroud vs. Captain cosmos. Even pa was there.” Alysa was surpised at how friendly he was, honestly. She’d known him less then 30 seconds and here he was spouting personal information like he’d knows her for years. It wasn’t a common thing. “Wish we had a Silver Shroud now a days. No matter how bleak things got, he’d save the day.”

“My family and I used to listen to every new episode. Wait in line just to get a copy the first day it came out.” The look of surprise on his face distracted her from the hole in her stomach that seemed to get a little bit bigger. Stuff it down. Stuff it down.

“You mean, when they first aired? How? The last broadcast was hundreds of years ago.” She should really get to telling piper her story, then she could have a copy to just hand out to people instead of having to explain the same shit over and over. After a while, it got annoying.

“I was a human popsicle. Two hundred years and change in a cryo pod. Just been awake for seven? Eight months? Give or take.” She had tried her best to stop counting after Christmas.

“Oh man, That’s amazing! You’re just like Mister Abominable from episode 83.” His grey eyes were wide, and bright.

“That was the caveman right? He was in an iceberg?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Found him just off the harbor. Boy, if you just woke up, the word these days must take some getting used to.”

“You’re tellin’ me. It was like a nightmare that I cant wake up from. I can’t tell you how much I miss hot showers. How did you… get used to everything. If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Mainly I focused on surviving. It got real bad after the bombs fell. For a long while… I tried not to think of the good ol’ days.” The bright look on his face faded into a withered one. A man who had see way too much shit in his lifetime. At over 200 years old, without cryo napping, she didn’t doubt that it was far too much for one human being, ghoul being. Whatever. “Just too painful, but it’s all we got now. We got to try and make it better.” Alysa nodded. That was the reason she’d joined up with the Minutemen. She didn’t need to get far out of sanctuary to see that the world was fucked up in more ways than she could count. “I got a question for you-”

“Alysa?” The blonde jerked her head towards Nick who was waving her over.

“Look, I got something I have to do, but I’ll get back to you on that question okay? It’s nice to talk to folks who were there, y’know?” The ghoul visibly sagged a little. “I’m Alysa Taylor, by the way. We didn’t get to proper introductions.”

“Kent Connolly.” He held out a hand for her to shake and she grasped it firmly. His skin was a lot smoother then she expected it to be, but there was also the wear and tear of a working man to them.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be in Goodneighbor, but I’ll stop in before I go okay? And uh, I’ll tune into the station. Be nice to hear some good tales out on the road.” He straightened up again. God he was like a puppy.

“T-that’d be great! I’ll uh, I’ll be here, waiting. I mean, not like _waiting_ waiting, but I got a show to run, I don’t have much time to get out and about y’know?” She could have swore he was blushing under his scars.

“I’ll see you soon Kent.” She offered a smile as she turned away, looking down to check for Dogmeat, but he was happily seated at Nick’s feet. “Let’s get this over with shall we?” she asked as she approached. Her stomach didn’t seem to uncurl, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t her hunger.


	2. The Rail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To save her son, Nick must put himself in harms way. Alysa Makes Nick take the time to think on it, and while he's pondering, our vault dweller Grabs some grub, a drink, and some company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise I'll always be this consistent, but currently... the writing but has bitten me in the ass.

The basement of the Memory den was a completely different place from the lush lounge above. It smelled of cleaning agents, and the humming of the machines around them reminded her far too much of a hospital. They did call her doctor though, so this was probably something along those lines. Nick never really did say what her specialty was, only that she could get the memories out of that implant thing.

“Dr. Amari?” called Nick, glowing eyes trained on a dark haired woman leaning over one of the machines. She hadn’t heard them come in. She smiled at first when she saw the synth, until she saw that he had company.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?”

“Not really. I uh take it you’re the doc that can pull memories out of brains?” Dogmeat wandered around the room sniffing, the doctor shot the dog a look. “Dogmeat, come.” she pointed to the ground at her feet and the pooch trotted over, plopping down. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted.

“Normally we only allow clients to experience their own memories. Now what is this all about?” She seemed satisfied that Dogmeat had listened. Alysa sighed. She really needed to get to piper. She was about to explain her entire conundrum, when Nick spoke up.

“We need a deep dig Amari, but it’s not gonna be easy. The perp, Kellogg is already cold on the floor.” At this point he’d probably heard her bitch about having to tell her story again and again. She was grateful for his stepping in. The ‘all business’ look on the doc’s face quickly vanished, a frown blooming in it’s place.

“Are you two mad?” she threw her hands up in frustration. “Putting aside the fact that you’re asking me to defile a corpse, you do realize that the memory simulators require intact, _living_ brains to function?”

“This dead brain had inside knowledge of the institute, Amari. The biggest scientific secret of the commonwealth. You need this, and so do we.” Nick was quick to jump into defence mode, but she was sure that it sounded like there was something she was missing. The woman heaved a heavy sigh and stepped away, her fingers finding the bridge of her nose, pinching it hard as she thought over the information she was just given.

“Fine. I’ll take a look, but I have no guarantees. Do you… have it with you?” Alysa slid her pack off of her shoulder, rummaging through it before she found the empty mentats container she’d stuffed the piece of Kellogg’s brain into. She made a face as she picked it up. The slimy gray matter had since dried to it, but it was gross to thing about. She’d helped patch up soldiers on the battlefield, she was used to blood and guts, but the brain was a whole other matter entirely. It was who a person was. Closest thing to a scientific soul she could wrap her mind around.

“Here’s what I could find.” She made a mental note to not use a shotgun on someone she needed answers from in the future, though she doubted Amari would be fond of a repeat of this kind of work.

“What’s this?? This isn’t a brain! This is… wait…” she held up the chip to get a better look, moving the wires out of the way. That’s the hippocampus! And this thing attached to it. A neural interface?”

“Those circuits look awfully familiar…” said nick, squinting himself as he leaned forward. Alysa’s heart seemed to squeeze in her chest, she wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad news. She looked from the doc to the synth, trying her best to be patient.

“I’m not surprised. From what I’ve seen, all the institute technology has a similar architecture.” Amari turned it over in her hands, looking up at Nick for a moment before sighing once more.

“I’m confused, someone explain please?” She didn’t mean to sound so painfully desperate, and the tone of her own voice made her cringe. “What does this mean?”

“As you have probably guessed by this point, Kellogg was a synth, a generation 3 model. Despite the damage, I thing we can access at least some of the information using another synth to connect it to.” They could access the information! They hadn’t had such good news since Nick said he could help her track down the guy who shot Nate, that he knew who he was.

“Being a synth is good for something at least.” Nick croaked, scooping his hat off his head. “Am I compatible doctor?” The sudden burst of excitement melted away. Alysa’s limbs felt like lead.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. If we’re lucky, it should hook right in.” She turned to a nearby table starting to clean off the brain residue. “But even if this works, Mister Valentine would be taking on a tremendous amount of risk. We’re talking about wiring something to his brain.”

“Don’t worry about me, Amari. Let’s do it.” He moved to a seat nearby without hesitation.

“Whoa there. Let’s talk about this for a second Nick.” said Alysa, shaking her head. “You’re talking about wiring Kellogg into your head. What if something goes wrong? What if you’re stuck with Kellogg in your head?” Her voice cracked as she stepped towards him.

“She is right. Having his memories in his head can transfer information into your memory bank. I’ve never done this before, so I could not even tell you if this is reversible. You’re a Gen 2, the information on how your processors work is minimal at best.” The doctor stopped working and turned, leaning up against the edge of the counter.

“See? This isn't something you just jump into Nick!” There was nothing in this shitty new world she wanted more then finding her son, but the idea of losing Nick brought that twisting pain back to her stomach. “We can go back. There were plenty of synths there that attacked us, maybe we could put one of them back together, use them.”

“Those gen 1’s aren’t capable of complex thought. They’re less compatible then a Mr. Handy.” said the synth, turning his hat in his hands. “This is our only shot at getting that information, unless you have another way into the institute that we don’t know about.”

“FUCK!” Alysa kicked her bag, spewing the contents across the floor. Dogmeat leaped up and gave a bark, growling at whatever had made his master so angry. “I don’t like this, not one bit!”

“I agree, but the choice isn’t ours to make.” said Amari, who was now staring down at the mess in her once spotless lab. Thankfully none of the explosives or cans of food had exploded.

“Alysa, it’s alright. I’m well beyond my expiry date anyways, and if this helps you get into the institute, it’s worth a shot.”

“Well beyond your- Nick, don’t pull this white knight crap.” she snarled, her hands reaching up for her braid. “If this goes wrong, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You’d keep looking for your kid.” He rose from the chair, stepping to her and gently pulling her hands from her head, making her look up into his glowing eyes. He may have been a glorified robot, but there was more sincerity there then her stressed out mind could handle at the moment. She turned her head, but he stopped her, catching her chin in his metallic hand and making her look back at him. “This is my choice to make.”

“Fine.” she whispered, biting down on the inside of her cheek for a moment to stop the cascade of tears that welled up in her eyes. He wasn’t wrong, in any of his points. “But not like this. You’re not going to just jump into it to play hero. You’re going to take time and think about it. _Really_ think about it.”

“I think that is wise.” Amari’s voice broke through the intense moment the pair had been caught in, Nick letting go of Alysa’s face, letting her step back.

“That’s fair. Another day’s wait isn’t going to hurt anyone.” He plopped his hat back onto his head, his gaze not having left the distressed vault dweller for a second. Her fists were clenching and unclenching, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at the floor.

“This whole situation is fucked up.” she growled, beginning to scoop up her belongings.

“You’re tellin’ me, kid.” Nick shot back stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“I will make the preparations. Come back to me tomorrow when you’ve decided.” She turned back to work on the neural interface, leaving them in in an awkward silence, only the slinking of cans and other items being unceremoniously stuffed into Alysa’s bag. Once she had hunted her things she pulled the bag over her shoulder.

“Thanks doctor.” her voice was quiet. Not the loud confident tone she usually held.

“We’ll see you tomorrow doc.” Nick chimed in after, following the blue clad woman up the steps, Dogmeat rushing passed him. Alysa’s brain was static, thoughts whirled around like a tornado ripping through a trailer park. She walked out of the memory den without a word to Irma or Kent. The cool breeze of the air a relief.

If they were going to be staying the night, they needed a room. She barely paid attention to the patrons of the Hotel Rexford, getting her key and heading straight up the stairs to the room. She didn’t have to look behind her to know that Nick was casually following, greeting folks as he passed in his usual manor. She dropped the bag on the floor, gazing around the room and taking it in. It was small, with a bathroom attached to it. A bed, an arm chair, a small night table and a dresser. Couldn’t complain though. She hardly expected five star accommodation.

Nick’s footfalls finally reached the room. He moved to the armchair and took a seat, digging for his cigarettes and lighter. She watched him light it and sit back, a puff of smoke escaping his mouth and drifting into the light of the boarded up window.

“I’m gonna take a bath.” she announced, searching through the pack for the minimal toiletries she had, scooping them up along with some clothes and stalking off into the bathroom. The door snapped shut. Nick stared after her, taking along drag of his smoke. The only time he’d seen her this distressed was when she found out that her boy was at the institute. To him, that was a valid reason to be losing one’s marbles. Though he did consider the woman to be a friend, he didn’t think she thought that much of him.

Cold water was the think about the Commonwealth Alysa would get used to. Her whole body shivered as she scrubbed down her body, her hair, and the tear streaks that ran down her face. She didn’t let herself fall to pieces, but the tears she couldn’t stop. Everything was just so fucked up, every step she took had a landmine under it. Sometimes she wished that she had taken Shaun in the vault, that Nate were the one to hunt down their son. He was the better soldier. He was the rock that kept her centered, even when their marriage was just one of convenience… but at the same time, she wouldn’t wish this bullshit on anyone. It was just too much at times, and even with all the steeling she had done to pack everything down it occasionally crept back up like bad shellfish.

Dressed in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a long sleeved flannel top, Alysa pulled the bathroom door to find Nick in the same spot, leaning forward, his head resting on folded hands. She shifted uncomfortably, hanging her suit over the metal footrest.

“So are we gonna talk about this?” she finally managed, her voice not as shaky as it had been in the den. The synth looked up, seemingly surprised by his interrupted thought.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about. This is our only shot of getting information. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“But what if something happens to you Nick?!” She dropped herself down on the edge of the bed so that she was close to him, and at his eye level.

“What if something does? This is part of the job, it’s dangerous.”

“There’s a difference between being shot at, and losing your mind. You..”

“You what?”

“You are my _friend_. Probably the best one I’ve got besides Dogmeat. The folks at sanctuary are great, don’t get me wrong. Preston is sweet enough, and Sturges is good people, but they’re not like you.” The synth made a face, his lips pressing into a hard line. Guess she did really think that much of him. “I care about you Nick, if something happened to you because of this, because of _me_ I’d never forgive myself.”

“You wouldn’t be the one do this. In fact I’m _damn_ sure you’re trying to stop me.” He wasn’t wrong. “I still have the night to think about it right? I told you I’d do that, and I will. Remember that friendship is a two way street. I want to help you find your kid, and I think I’m willing to take that risk for a friend.” Alysa sighed as she stared at him. There it was. That painfully honest sincerity that he just couldn’t get rid of. Perhaps that’s what drew her to him.

“You are painful, you know that right? It would be so much easier if you were just some selfish prick mercenary.” This earned one of his low chuckles. For some reason in her head, she could hear Kellogg’s mocking laugh just behind it.

“I suppose, but I don’t think a merc would be willing to let someone else in his head to help you.” Silence filled the room. It wasn’t quite uncomfortable, but it was filled with unspoken words. Her growling stomach was a welcome interruption. “You’d better get yourself some grub before your insides start eating themselves.”

“A hot meal would be nice right about now. Maybe a beer, or a glass of wine.” said Alysa. Maybe a whole bottle of wine. Only a few times since she had crawled out of that god forsaken tomb had she really indulged herself. On her first night, she had cleared a bottle of vodka, listening to Codsworth chatter on for hours. She regretted it the next day, seeing as the last think she’d eaten was sugar bombs, over 200 years earlier.

“The third rail’s got some decent grub. Plus, the music is great. Ol’ Magnolia sure has a set of pipes.” He smiled ever so slightly as he spoke. “You’ll like it. Has an old-timely kind of feel.”

“You not coming with?” she asked as she hunted for a brush then pulled it through her tangled hair. She would need a trim eventually. It was a good portion of the way down her back, and she didn’t always have the time or luxury of braiding it to keep it out of her face when they were on the move. It was a miracle she’d been able to keep it this well so far.

“I think I’ll pass. Got some thinking to do, remember? You go and have a good time.” He sat back in the chair, fishing for his lighter once more.

“As if I could forget.”

Armed with her pip-boy, a pistol, a bag of caps, a pack of smokes, and her loyal guard dog; Alysa pushed open the door of the Rexford, plopping her minutemen hat on her head. She hadn’t bothered to tie up her hair, leaving it hanging down her back. Goodneighbor reminded her of parts of Boston back in the day, rough areas of people just trying to hold it together. Seeing the state of the Commonwealth, it was easy to glorify pre-war life, but she knew that hings were still rough all over. They were just better at hiding it.

“You’re blockin’ my light, doll.” Alysa spun to see that as she zoned out, she’d stopped in front of a ghoul in a suit, clutching a rifle.

“Sorry, just takin’ in the sights.” She waved a hand of apology and went to step away.

“You stickin’ around? You’ll need to join a crew. Bobbi-no-nose is lookin’ last I heard. There’s always a catch with Bobbi though.”

“I… will think on that, thank you.” She said, stuffing the bag of caps into her pocket and ushering Dogmeat to follow as she rounded the corner to The Third Rail. Several more men and ghouls either stood along the walls or paced with guns. Town security, probably. Though they didn’t seem to do much about that whole extortion situation. Goodneighbor was certainly a monster of it’s own.

Alysa pulled open the heavy metal door, holding it open for her faithful pooch to pass and stepped inside. Much like the rest of Goodneighbor, the place could really use a good sweeping, but it was a clever thing to turn a subway station into a bar. She’d have to give her compliments to the one that ran the show, if she ever met them. The ghoul standing in front of the steps gave her a once over without even a hesitation. She didn’t think bouncers would be a thing in a place like Goodneighbor, but where came trouble, so did a beating stick.

“Hancock says newcomers are welcome in the Third Rail. Go on in.” he jerked his head to the stairs, stepping to the side.

“Thank you sir. I don’t plan on causing any trouble tonight.”

“Better not. Charlie serves the drinks, I deal with the drunks.”

“Sounds fair. Nice tux by the way.” She offered a smile as he passed, the next words he was about to say seemed to be lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. The more ghouls she had seen, the more she was less surprised by them, and more curious. Some looked like they had more radiation damage then others had. Some had hair. The Mayor and Ham seemed to have black eyes, while Daisy and Kent had what looked like their natural eye colour, but the whites of their eyes were red. She hit the bottom of the stairs, and was a little unnerved by all the heads that suddenly turned in her direction. “Evening.” she said with a tip of her hat, and slowly they turned back to their drinks and chatter. For a town full of freaks, they sure knew how to make someone feel like an outsider.

The place was pretty big. Diamond city radio played over the radio, but there was what looked like a cobbled together stage at the end of the bar. A few couches were strewn about, along with some tables and chairs. She didn’t know exactly how much she trusted the food or drink coming out of this place, but she didn’t exactly have a cooking station to whip something up for herself. The blonde approached the bar, and the Mr. Handy that was busy with a row of glasses, pouring various ingredients into them.

“Go have a seat somewhere. I’ll be with you when I’m good and ready. I got three arms and one hand between them.” he barked in the same sort of English accent that Codsworth sported, though he certainly had more of an attitude.

“Fair enough, take your time, sir.” The handy stopped pouring for a moment one of his mechanical eyes squinting as she moved to en empty table and took a seat, fiddling with her pip-boy as she waited.

“Strange one that is.” he said to no one in particular before looking back to his task.

Alysa looked through her ever growing list of tasks she had imputed into the pip-boy. Settlements to supply, errands to run. Her son to find. She wondered briefly if she would ever find that screen empty. It always seemed like someone wanted something done in the commonwealth. With fingers she made a note to search for this Bobbi person, and to go back and talk to Kent. The events at the memory den had distracted her from going back to speak with him, but she did say she’d visit before she headed out of good neighbor, and with her luck that could be at least a few days.

The sound of a microphone turning on pulled the blonde’s attention to the stage. A woman stood before the mic, clad in a tight sequin dress, her hair cut to her shoulders, and with curves that immediately sprung a pang of jealousy. If it hadn’t been for the pregnancy, Alysa would have been pretty flat in most areas. Muscle, yes. She went from farm girl, to dancer, to soldier. She’d always been active, but she didn’t have curves. This woman was a knockout.

“Good evenin’ ladies and gents, ghouls and gals. Welcome tot he Third rail.” Her voice was sultry, like the low purr of a tiger ready to pounce. The tunes started, and she began to sway her hips, a hand on the mic. “ _I see you lookin' 'round the corner_ _, c_ _ome on inside and pull up a chair_ _._ _No need to feel like a stranger_ _,_ _  
_ _c_ _ause we're all a little strange in here._ ” There were those pipes nick had been going on about. “ _Have you got a history that needs erasing?_ _Did you come in just for the beer and cigarettes?_ _A broken down dream_ _you're tired of chasing_ _._ _Oh, well I'm just the girl to make you forget._ ”Boy did she hit the nail on the head. Guess that was the whole charm of Goodneighbor. Back in the day she’d probably have avoided such a place, but she found herself liking the idea. Even if it was rough around the edges.

“Oi.” Alysa physically jumped, her head spinning to see the Mr. Handy hovering beside her.

“When the hell did I get so damn jumpy?”she hissed at herself. Whether it was Goodneighbor itself, or her own rattled brain that had her so lost in thought she could not tell.

“Not my business, not my problem.”barked the Handy.

“Again, fair. You got any grub? Food?”

“Iguana stew is tonight’s specialty. Asides that I got can a cram. Maybe some pork’n beans.”

“I’ll take the stew please, and a beer, if you don’t mind. Oh, and a can of cram for the pooch.”

“Manners. That’s not something we come across often. Be back in a jiff.” The handy, who she assumed was charlie floated off, leaving Alysa to stare back at the singer, happily just enjoying the entertainment. She didn’t mind listening to diamond city radio, truthfully. Travis played some good tunes, but she desperately needed to find him some new material. After a few more songs, one written for the town itself, Charlie reappeared with her stew and her drink, bringing a plate of cram down for Dogmeat, who’d been laying under the table. He gave an appreciative bark and immediately began slurping up the tinned… whatever it was.

“Thanks Charlie, I appreciate it.” She dug through her bag of caps to put the necessary amount, plus extra into his satchel. “Who uh… who’s the singer.” she asked before he had a chance to hover off. She could have sworn he sighed as he righted himself back to face her.

“That is Magnolia. The flower of the Third Rail. Anything you want to know about her other than that is her business.” Alysa didn’t doubt that the barkeep was used to people trying to get info from him to get under her dress. “Anything else, or can I get back to work?”

“So this is your place? I have to say, using the old subway station was a good idea. Very clever.” she nodded to him, offering up a smile.

“What? Nah, gov’. This place is Hancock’s. Ol’ charlie just keeps the floor clean, and the drinks dirty.”He laughed, presumably at the look on her face.

“Soooo Hancock, guy in the pointy hat and colonial get up owns this place.”

“That’s right. Owner and Mayor of this whole town. Trust me, never get on his bad side. Oh… and stay clear of his bodyguard.”

“Is that the woman who follows him. Carries a big gun.”

“Yeah, the redhead with the condescending stare. Trust me guv. Somethin’ about her ain’t right. Not that I’d ever admit sayin’ that.”

“Alright, king of the zombies has a bullet spitting bitch watching his back. Duly noted.” Satisfied with the conversation, she took a gulp of her beer as charlie floated away. She almost spit it back out. God that was awful. The stew was pretty good though. The iguana texture was always off, no matter how you cooked it, but it was pretty tasty considering. There might have even been salt and pepper in there. She’d have to interrogate the handy later on where she could find some for herself.

Another beer and an empty bowl of stew later, two sets of heavy footfalls came down the steps behind her. She didn’t have much care for who it was, but the rest of the patron’s heads snapped over. Faces lit up, and Alysa couldn’t resist her curiosity. Hancock, mayor extraordinaire had reached the bottom of the steps, head held high, hands on his hips, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“Well lookie here. It’s my favourite band of misfits! A round for everyone Charlie!” he boomed over Magnolia and her tunes. There was a cheer from the patrons as he laughed, casually strolling towards the bar, chatting with passers by, clapping a hand on the odd back, his bodyguard never more then two feet behind him. While he carried the charisma she looked thoroughly annoyed at everyone around them for simply existing.

“She must be great at parties” Alysa grumbled, looking back to her beer, swallowing before downing the rest of the bottle. It may have tasted like the ass end of a mole rat, but it was alcohol, and that familiar warmth of her limbs was welcome. Dogmeat, who had long since finished his dinner put his head in her lap, his brown eyes staring up at her. “There’s more waiting for you in the room, okay? Don’t give me that look. Your puppy eyes don’t work on me.” He whined as she scratched his head. “Okay sometimes they work on me.” Damn dog. She was a sucker for the beast and he knew it. She laughed to herself as she reached down giving his back a good scratch. It didn’t last long though, she needed another drink.

Alysa scooped up the plate, her bowl and both beer bottles, walking over to the bar, avoiding the bodyguard.

“Heya Charlie. Didn’t wanna make you walk…hover all the way over. Got somewhere I can put these for you?” she asked as he turned to her. All three eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Bin behind the bar at the end.” Which was just on the other side of Hancock and Calamity Jane.

“Thanks.” she chirped back, walking the long way around the tables so she didn’t have to brush passed the burly woman. By no means was Alysa afraid of her, but she was far from being in the mood for any kind of confrontations. She approached the bin, gently placing the plate and bowl inside, putting the beer bottles in the one beside it. A few bottles seemed to have missed their mark, whether by lazy patrons or Charlie being too busy to care. She picked them up and put them with the others.

“I don’t remember hiring you.” croaked a familiar gravely voice. Apparently her presence had not gone unnoticed.

Hancock stood at the bar, one arm leaning on it, a glass in his hand, a rich golden liquid inside. He hadn’t noticed her upon entering the rail, it was only when he looked over at the clinking of glassware that he spotted the pip boy on her arm. She’d shed the vault suit, and the braid had gone with it. Her hair fell down her back and over her shoulder. All the way down passed her chest. Her blue eyes stared at him as she jerked up from bending over the bins.

“Oh, I just… wanted to be helpful. Unless your paying.” Seeing the second time wasn’t as jarring. In the min light of the Third rail, the scars on his face were less pronounced, except the hole where his nose once was. He laughed, draining the glass before slamming it down on the counter.

“Charlie! Another. And a drink for my friend here.” he barked over his shoulder. “What’re ya drinkin?”

“Beer is fine.” He made a face.

“Nah, we’ll do you one better. You don’t wanna drink that swill. Bourbon? Whiskey?” She hadn’t planned on getting fucked up, but she didn’t care to be rude either.

“Bourbon would be great. Thanks - _Dogmeat_!” The dog had gotten up from where she left him at the table and was sniffing at the bodyguard’s hand. “Sorry, he’s friendly, I promise.” The woman stared down at Dogmeat before giving him a pat on the head, much to the Alysa's astonishment. Satisfied with his greeting he moved onto Hancock, tail wagging.

“Fehr’s friendly too, just don’t try petting her on the head. Might not end well for ya.” A snort came from the woman as Hancock crouched down to get on eye level with the dog who sniffed his face, tail wagging. Dogmeat laid a slobbery wet kiss to his face, from chin to brow. “You got slobber in my nose, dog.” he grumbled, but his expression didn’t show anger. He gave Dogmeat a scratch behind the ears before standing up. “Good companion you got here. Say, I almost didn’t recognize you without that vault-suit of yours. Cant say that I don’t miss it though.”

“Can’t say - uh…” Now she’d been hollered at and dog whistled many times since she’d been wandering the commonwealth, but smooth? That wasn’t common. She didn’t know if she could handle another flirt like Nick. Her face flushed. “You, are trouble. I can already tell.”

“Trouble’s my middle name, _sunshine_.”


	3. Promise of Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alysa learn a little bit more about Goodneighbor's leading man, and makes a promise to her dearest friend. Hopefully, she won't have to fulfil it.

Alysa was well aware of the fact that it was getting late, but she was nursing her third glass of bourbon, head considerably lighter then it had been when she walked in. The good mayor had invited, more insisted really, that she come and join him in his lounge. Despite the shameless flirting, he was a good guy. Unlike when they first met, and he stabbed another human being for the slightest infraction, the Hancock she saw now was boisterous, funny. An assortment of drifters passed through, whether it was just to look in on their adored leader and greet him, to grab some chems from his seemingly endless pockets, or to pay him back for whatever hey had borrowed from him; the man greeted them all like a friend. Compared to the stuffy mayor of Diamond City, he was a gem.

Another drifter walked out and he stood, stretching before whipping out a jet inhaler and taking a big huff. He held it in until he couldn’t any longer. The cloud he exhaled was honestly impressive.

“You’re gonna lose your ash.” he said turning to the vault dweller who was watching like a cat would watch a mouse. She turned her head and carefully moved her cigarette to the ashtray on the table beside her, tapping it gently to let it fall. At lest she wasn’t staring at him like she’d seen a ghost anymore. “So all this chatting, and booze and I still don’t have your name, sunshine. I don’t even know a lick about you except you walked into my town and punched ol’ Finn square in the nose.” Alysa took another drag before reaching over and placing her glass on the table. Honestly she didn’t know if she’d end up finishing that.

“Alysa.” she said holding out her hand for him to take, which he did. She noted the same softness of his skin as was with Kent, but Hancock was quicker to take back his digits. “Alysa Taylor.”

“Alysa. Hm.” He pondered this for a moment, flopping down on a big red couch. He wished he’d taken the mentats instead of the Jet. Jet gave him the body tingles, the blur of the brain. Mentats made conversation hell of alot easier. “So what was the vault like. I know some traders stop by vault 81 by diamond city once in a while, but I’ve never gone in. Didn’t think the folks would appreciate my particular brand of sexy, ya feel?” Honestly, the way he sat there, legs spread, relaxed, hat tipped, she had to admit there was a certain air of good looking about him and he was _dangerous_ to go alongside that charm. Not in the sense that Nick was. The synth could charm the pants off a super mutant with kind words and his calming voice. Hancock looked like he could pick you up and rip your heart out with his bare hands. Maybe even laugh about it afterwards. “Hello? Commonwealth to Alysa.”

“Shit I’m sorry I was lost in thought. How old is this Bourbon?” she gave her head a shake.

“Old enough. Hasn’t gotten you out of your pants yet, though.” Blush bloomed once more on her cheeks, a victorious grin spreading to his.

“What were you - oh. The vault. I didn’t live in the vault. Not like we were supposed to. The day the bombs fell me and my family made it. Scariest shit I’ve ever seen, and we had to tango with Swan to get here, by the way.” She snubbed out her smoke. “When we got down there, my… my husband took my baby. We got into these things. Turn out those things were cryo pods. We were frozen for over 200 years.” The ghoul’s forehead was creased, brows (Or lack thereof) risen high.

“That’s rough. Cant imagine crawling out into this shit hole was any fun. So, what’re you doing all the way out in Goodneighbor with Nicky. Not that I’m complainin’ none, you’re a regular sight for sore eyes, but most people stick pretty close to there families in a place where turning the wrong corner can get you crack open like a can of cram.” Her face fell. That wasn’t a good sign.

“My husband is dead. My son is missing, and Nick is going to help me find him. It’s dangerous though. Could put Nick in a bad way.” She was hoping the avoid the subject for the night, forget that tomorrow was even happening.

“Nick? He’ll be fine, sunshine. He’s handled himself through worse then you could put him through, no doubt. Glad you got someone to help ya find your kid. A baby, now that’s just fucked up.” Honestly, unless it was slavers starting early, he couldn’t imagine anyone else going after a baby. There was no money in it unless someone had a plan for the kid. He didn’t like that. Not one bit. “I’ll keep my ear to the pavement for ya, alright?”

“Thanks Hancock.” She tossed him a sad smile. “Enough about my sob story. You can read it in Publik Occurrences one day. What about you. Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbor. Gotta be a story behind that.” Hancock chuckled and looked down at his boot, rocking it foot back and forth on his heel.

“My favourite subject.” Dogmeat got up from beside the blonde and made his way over to Hancock. He sat beside him, resting his head on the ghoul’s knee, wagging his tail when he received the pets he was begging for. “I came into this town about… a decade ago? I had a smooth set of skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of this community, I would go on these like…wild tears. I was young. Any chems I could find, the more exotic, the better. Finally I found this experimental radiation drug. Only one of it’s kind left, and only one hit.” He looked up at the ceiling, letting the fond memories spring forward. “Oh man, the high was so worth it. Yeah, I’m living with the side effects, but hey, what’s not to love about immortality?”

“Immortality. Is that why there’s so many pre-war ghouls walkin’ around this place?” She’d already met daisy and Kent. Apparently there was another one at the Rexford somewhere, but she hadn’t really stopped to take a look around.

“Well… not exactly, but ghoul just age really… really slow. Something about the rads maybe? Who knows.”

“You’re one hell of a risk taker, sir. You could have died on that trip.”

“Only have one life, why not try it all?”

“ _Carpe Diem_.” A smile pulled at her lips as she stared down at her hands, turning them over, rubbing her fingers together, her mind beginning to drift into the haze of memory.

“What?” The relaxed drawl of his voice had become sharp. “Is that some kind of pre-war curse?”

“Tyrrhenum. Sapias, vina liques et spatio brevi, spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida aetas: _carpe diem_ , quam minimum credula postero.” Alysa couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the confused look on Hancock’s face. Like he had walked in on a super mutant fucking a gen 1 synth. “It means; Strain your wine, and prove your wisdom; life is short; should hope be more? In the moment of our taking, envious time had ebb’d away. Pluck the present; trust tomorrow e’en as you little may.”

“You sneaking some mentats while I wasn’t lookin’?” speaking of which, his brain was too fogged to listen to what she had said without one. He dug into his pocket and fished out his tin, popping a grape one into his mouth, chewing it up as she dug for a smoke.

“No no. When I signed up for the army, they promised to send me to school. I wasn’t there long before the war really kicked off, and I was needed in the field. I got to chance to complete a few classes. In my writing course we studied poetry. That was part of a poem written in the year 23 BC. So… 2300 years ago basically.” He still looked kind of confused. “Carpe diem on it’s own means, pluck the day. It was for a long time mistranslated to mean _seize_ the day, but its essentially the same thing. Seize was just a more…enthusiastic or forceful way of saying, where as pluck the day was more gentle… like picking a flower instead of leaping into a den of raiders not caring if you’re going to make it out at the end of it.”She realized that she’d probably lost him. “I’m sorry, that… I blame the bourbon.”

“So… basically what you just said. Carp day thing is what I said.” He could feel the mentats starting to fire up his brain. “And hold up a second. Little thing like you was in an army? _You_ were in the army? Isn’t that the people who started the war? The bombs and the whole shitshow?”

“I don’t know. I was kicked out a couple years before the bombs. I didn’t follow orders well I guess. Lucky they didn’t have me face a firing squad, but I was away from all that long before the bomb dropped. At his point, it’s anyone’s guess. I couldn’t even tell you how many countries got involved, if it was a worldwide thing. Hell, it could have been the us that got hit and nothing else.” The idea had crossed her mind. The brothers that owned the dugout had come from another country, they didn’t talk about it like it was any more well off then them, and honestly, at this point they didn’t have the technology to find out. Maybe the institute did. That would be something she’d have to remember when she finally kicked down their door.

“Wouldn’t that be fucked. Imagine getting out of the commonwealth and finding a place that’s rad free. Livin’ like the old days.”

“I hope that’s true. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy that I’m not dead… but I hope someone out there has it better then us.” She reached for her glass, eyeing it for a moment before holding it out to the mayor. “To air in our lungs, a drink in our hands…”

“And chems pumpin’ through our veins.” he added reaching forward to clink his own glass against hers. She drained it, which she’d probably regret later. She squeezed her eyes shut as the burn passed her throat and made it’s way to her stomach.

“That’s good shit.” she hissed through clenched teeth before she he stood, picking up her smokes and storing them away along with her lighter. Dogmeat gave a little yip and moved from Hancock to his master, nuzzling against her leg. “On that note, and before that hits me, I’m heading back to the Rexford. Tomorrow’s gonna be a day, and I’m not really ready to face it.” She patter her pockets, making sure she still had her caps and such.

“Well I sure do hope we showed you a good time. Give ya taste of what the Goodneighbor life has for ya. Maybe you’ll wanna stick around a bit, hm?” He got himself to his feet, swaying a little.

“I uh… actually did have a good time. I’ll be honest, I’ve always got so much shit to do that taking time to… relax hasn’t been on the menu.” She smiled.

“Well, I’m on the menu any day of the week. You know where to find me.” Alright, he knew it was forward, but the blush that stained her cheeks brought a grin to his own again.

“You… you’re bad.” she said wagging a playful finger at him. He laughed as she turned to walk out, rubbing her cheeks, perhaps trying to get the glow off of them before she got back to Nick.

Though Hancock didn’t want her to leave, He really didn’t mind watching her go. The vault dweller was tiny, if she stood in front of him she probably wouldn’t reach his shoulder, but her she had a figure he’d seen on those pre-war posters and mags. Some of which he had stuffed in his nightstand.

“So whaddaya think Fehr. Like ‘er?” he quipped scooping up his jet container and putting it away in his coat, patting down his own pockets to make sure he had all his things.

“She talks too much. At least your other fucks are to busy with their mouths full to make much noise.” she said with a shrug.

“I like the talkin’.” He jerked his head at the door, waving goodbye to Charlie and what patrons remained as he made his way out of the rail, a wobble to his walk, just how he liked it. Stepping outside he found himself looking for the vault girl. Or really for a glimpse of that ass. Figure aside, it was nice getting to have a chitchat with someone that wasn’t trying to get something out of him. He didn’t mind the quick fucks that wandered through his door. Sometimes they could be fun as hell, but they always came looking for chems, or a favor. Some came for the fuck itself, which was nice, but they didn’t stick around to chat. They were done and gone before his post coitus smoke was snubbed out. “She’s different he mumbled to himself as he headed into the statehouse, climbing the steps to his room. He tossed his hat and coat over a chair and threw himself unceremoniously onto his bed, reaching a hand into his nightstand. He’d done too much thinking of fucking to go to bed wanting.

Alysa opened her eyes, blinking at the streams of light that poured into the room through the badly boarded up windows.

“Who turned on the goddamn sun. I want them fired.” she grumbled, reaching for the plaid shirt that was bunched up beside her. A chuckle from the nearby chair drew her attention.

“Little much too much to drink last night?” Alysa lifted the shirt enough to see the synth sitting on the chair, a smug look on his face.

“I don’t think I had that much. I made it home and everything.”

“Oh, you made it back. And I’m sure woke up half the hotel as you fell going up the stairs.” His chuckle earned him a pillow launched in his direction. He caught it, putting it on his lap. He wasn’t about to hand her ammunition right back to her. “Don’t get my wrong, it was nice to see.”

“Me? Stumbling drunk at god knows what hour? What time is it even now?” Alysa pushed the plaid shirt off her face, reaching for her pip-boy that she’d mercifully remembered to take off, or Nick took it off her. She wasn’t too sure.

“No, you taking a night off. You nearly took the whole room down with you, but you were grinning like the cat that caught the canary.” She fiddled with the knobs on the pip boy, groaning loudly as she realized that it was early afternoon. She either REALLY needed the sleep, or got in way later then she thought she did. “Since the day you showed up in that old vault you’ve been doing something. Hunting down raiders, fetching paint, getting nervous nellies into fistfights.” The blonde smirked. Vadim’s crazy plan wasn’t what Nick would have called well planned, but it ended up doing exactly what was intended. “Point is, Sometimes you need to put your feet up, collect your thoughts…”

“You mean like you do?” She looked up to catch the stare she was probably receiving when her pillow smacked her square in the face.

“Very funny. You’re not a machine, Allie.” He certainly didn’t expect the surprised look on her face at the shortening of her name. “Avoid the nicknames. Got it.”

“No no no!” Alysa threw her hands up. “It’s not that. Just been a long time since I heard it, I guess. Most people around me eventually transitioned into calling me Allie at some point. Hasn’t happened since I woke up, really.” Though, she guessed that she didn’t stick around people long enough for them to get to know her that well. She had people she liked well enough, but not… people that she was close with. Not like Nick.

“I won’t, if it bothers you.” The synth knew better then anyone what it was like to try and keep the memories of a different buried beneath the surface. He’d spent nearly a century now trying to settle the war in his head between pre-war Nick and himself, trying to separate the two, or bring them together… he honestly didn’t know. It was an entire mess, and when there was work to do it was easier to ignore it.

“I like it.” She offered the synth a smile before stretching and crawling out of the bed and grabbing her toiletries bag to get ready to face the day. It wasn’t often she actually had the opportunity.

Alysa kicked the door to the small washroom shut and turned on the tap, letting the water run for a moment to clear any debris as she stripped to her small clothes. She looked down at herself taking in the display of scars that bloomed across her skin. From her c-section scar and other pre-war injuries to the new collection she’d been building in the commonwealth. She was a fucking mess. To her pleasure though, having to travel on foot and fight for one’s life really did wonders. After Shaun, she had the hardest time getting rid of the weight that she had gained. The only part of her she’d retained from her pregnancy was her c-section scar and her breasts. Even now they were full, heavy and painful.

When she’d escaped the vault, she’d been under the impression that her child was still a babe, and would need the nutrients she had to give. She’d done her damndest to keep the production going, to keep her body ready for her son… but it was all for naught. He was a boy now. At least of ten years from what they learned from Kellogg and his stupid terminal. Far passed the age of needing a mother’s nutrients. She sighed before looking away from the mirror. Too many scars. Too many memories.

Alysa did what she could to relieve the pressure, but without pre-war medicines and technologies it was going to be hard to stop, especially seeing as she was always on the move, always fighting, always carrying an overweight pack or helping to repair settlements. How the hell did women do this shit before modern medicine? She swore to herself as she washed her body and face with her cloth, brushed her teeth and fought her long hair back into a neat tight braid that hung over her shoulder. “This is good as it’s going to get.” she grumbled into the mirror after having dressed again.

Nick, upon her emergence from the bathroom was sitting on the edge of the bed, Dogmeat was laying on his back, curled around the synth, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as Nick’s metal hand scratched at his belly. Dogmeat may have been her pooch, but the pup had attached to Nick pretty hard.

“I hate to interrupt, but…” her words fell short as the synth looked up at her with those glowing golden eyes. He had a look of determination to him as he patted down the bed on the other side of Dogmeat. Alysa put her toiletries bag down and shimmied over, sitting where he had gestured.

“I’ve made my decision… but I have a favour to ask you. Just in case of the worst possible ending to this whole affair.” His hand stilled on Dogmeat’s belly and the dog gave a little whimper, turning right side up, and nudging Nick’s elbow.

“I’m listening.” God she did not want to have this conversation. She wanted to go back to yesterday and stay right the fuck there. She didn’t want Nick to have to pull this bullshit in order to take even the chance at a step towards finding Shaun. Her baby boy. No, her young man.

“There’s this piece of Nick Valentine history I’ve been hoping to put a bow on for a while now. If things don’t go over well, I’d like to know that someone is going to tie up those loose ends.” This felt too much like a goodbye. Alysa balled up her hands as she nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. The sting stopped the pooling in her eyes, distracted her from the ache in her chest and the sudden hole that had found itself in her gut.

“Of course Nick, anything.” and she meant it. If something happened to him, she’d walk naked into a deathclaw den if that was his wish. Why the fuck did it have to come to this? When she finally got her hands on whatever scum ran the Institute, she’d strangle the fucker.

“This one is straight out of the archives.” he scooped his hat off his head, turning it in his hands, staring down at the old piece of shabby material as if it had some kind of answer for him. It stayed quiet. “Once upon a time, in the land of Boston, there lived a king of organized crime. Eddie Winter. He was a bad man who did a lot of bad things. Hurt a lot of innocent people, but he knew the end was coming.” The name had rung a bell somewhere deep in Alysa’s mind, but she didn’t have time to chase the thought. If this was Nick’s request of her, she didn’t dare miss a word he said. “So he sealed himself inside a personal shelter, located underneath the sub shop he used as a headquarters.”

“I mean, a sub shop is a pretty innocent place, not really one that would draw suspicion. People could come and go and it would just look like a business. That’s pretty clever, actually.” She hated to praise a person that Nick clearly didn’t have a high tolerance for, but if she were going to do it, she’d be hard pressed to come up with a better solution then that. Back in the old days anyways.

“Clever or not, the story gets even more twisted. The arrogant bastard wanted to cheat death. Life forever, so he could come out of that shelter someday, into this brave new world. Sound familiar?”

“Don’t tell me the rat has a cryo pod down there. That’s my origin story.” she managed to crack a smile.

“Eddie didn’t want to be a frozen banana.” he shot back, earning a snort from Alysa.

“Frozen banana huh? That one’s new. I like popsicle better.” His deep laugh warmed the blonde. It would be alright. It had to be alright.

“No cryo sleep for Eddie. Nah, he invested his money in some sick, crazy radiation experiment.”

“Radiation experiment… like a drug?” Though some of her memories from the night before were a little blurry, she did remember Hancock telling her his story, how he’d taken some radiation drug to get fucked up and become the colonial ghoul he was today. “Like Hancock. He became a ghoul didn’t he?”

“We may make a detective of you yet. Eddie winter did exactly that, two hundred years before it was fashionable. Hell, he was probably the first ghoul to have existed.” Alysa made a mental note to NOT tell Mayor Hancock that his schtick wasn’t so original, though she had a feeling that the reasons were vastly different. “I’m convinced that he’s still locked inside that shelter. Safe and sound. Ready to come out and begin his evil reign all over again.”

“Well, hunting down assholes has kind of become a side gig of mine, but… why hunt him down after all this time. Vendetta’s I get, but you don’t seem the type to hold too much of a grudge.” Nick turned to look at her, his lips drawn again into a hard line. There was an expression on his face that she’s never seen before. Hurt maybe? Regret? She hated it. She wanted to smack him, make him angry, anything but the look he was giving her right now.

“I’ve got these memories. Of a… of a girl. My girl.” Oh no. “They’re not my memories, I know that. They’re Nick’s. But the girl… she was real.” His voice quivered. Could synths cry? He sounded as if he could of, but he only turned his gaze, staring down at his hat again, crushing it between his sturdy fingers. “She was beautiful… and innocent… and winter killed her. Now hes got to pay the price.” His voice took a sharp turn to anger. She knew well enough that he didn’t breathe like a normal human, but she could feel the action of his chest moving, his unneeded breath uneven. Perhaps a memory of a physical anger response? It didn’t last long. He calmed himself and straightened his hat, unbunching it and plopping it on top of his head. “So… you in?”

“Nick, you know I’m always in for getting some good old-fashioned revenge.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Now, I know where winter’s vault is, but the door is sealed with a complex numerical code. Lucky for us, winter’s arrogance knew no bounds.” He stood from the bed, finding his cigarettes and lighter, tossing the pack to Alysa after lighting his own. “Back in the day, he recorded 10 holotapes, incriminating different criminal associates. On each one, he his a single number. Find the holotapes, get all the numbers. Get all the numbers? We get the code. And then we get winter.”

“Well, that’s a solid start. I can do that.” She took a long drag of her smoke. She had to do that. He reached into his jacked, tossing two holotapes onto the bed. Dogmeat sniffed them.

“I’ve been putting a file together on this one for a while now. Those are worth listening to, one is winter’s that I managed to snatch up from the Cambridge police evidence lock-up before getting swarmed by ferals. On my way out the door, I spotted an active evidence terminal. I’ll bet my hat that terminal is the key to finding the rest of the tapes.”

“I remember that place. Some brotherhood of steel people have hunkered down there. If they haven’t torn everything apart, there’s a good chance it’s still working.” She’d helped the one in power armor get some relay device from an old factory. They weren’t the most friendly people, but she couldn’t forget their opinion on… non humans. Perhaps it was best that even if, _when_ Nick was able to go with her, she kept him at a distance. She was grateful in that moment that she’d stumbled into Preston Garvey and the Minutemen before she’d heard that distress signal. Preston had explained to her about ghouls and a touch about synths, but she wasn’t sure if she’d have had the same attitude towards them if Danse had been the one to teach her about the wasteland. “I’ll make sure this gets done, Nicky. But I’d much rather stick to the idea that we’re gonna do it together okay?”

“Nicky?” Nick flicked the ash from his smoke and shot her a look over his shoulder. “You’ve been hanging out with Hancock too much.”

“What can I say. I like freaks and geeks.”


	4. A Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick is in trouble, and after a word from the Neighborhood watch, Hancock tears through the city trying what happened to his friend. The answer is not what he expected.

The day had been no different then all the other days over the last few months. Boring. Lame. Drug fueled hours spend laying on the same cushy red couch in The Old State house. That was a lie. Sometimes he crawled back into his bed to rub one out. Sometimes pleasurable company would bring themselves to him, and he’d have the pleasure of fucking them and watching them walk away, leaving him alone on his couch again. Maybe Fehr would come up and yell at him about something. While super mutant attacks were a royal pain in his withered ass, he he wouldn’t mind one just to have a break in the monotony. This was definite not the life he expected to have as the Mayor of Goodneighbor.

Hancock sat up, his boots landing on the worn floor with a hard thud that echoes through the empty room. He popped a mentat and went to his fridge, digging through for a bottle of anything that could help move his buzz along. He took a long drink of an open bottle of whiskey before replacing it. He had an afternoon speech to make after all. He lumbered to the door leading to the balcony, adjusting his tricorn hat before making his way outside to address his people.

This got old too.

They stared up at him, drinking in every work he spewed out on the old broken cobblestone below. He could be talking about how he wiped his ass and they’d probably cheer him on. He didn’t mind the respect, but something wasn’t sitting right. He was too comfortable… and people in power shouldn’t be comfortable for long. That was a lesson he’d instilled in his little community years ago now. When he first took on the name John Hancock. When he’d first adorned his tricorn hat and dispatched of Vic and his men.

The crowd dispersed when he was finished, but he stayed on the balcony for a little longer, burning his way through a smoke as he watched his little hovel. He stood there for quite a while actually, taking note of the people. The drifters that huddled around a fire, throwing whatever they’d purchased from Daisy into a pot. The sun was starting to dip, the Neighborhood Watch was trading shifts. He watched a few of them head into the state house to give reports, ones that no doubt Fehr would be bringing up to him in a few minutes. He still had a job to do, after all. Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement from the memory den, the front door opened and out slid a familiar pooch. The fluffy beast was certainly the vaultie’s but the person who came out following him wasn’t her. Definitely not her. Kent Connolly came shuffling out after the dog, reaching down to pet his head before heading towards the statehouse…or passed it.

“Hey there Kent? Got a new friend?” he asked, leaning over the edge of the balcony to get a better glimpse. The shy ghoul tipped his head back so far that he dropped his hat. He scrambled to pick it up as Dogmeat spotted Hancock, giving a few loud yips and bouncing on his front paws to greet him.

“Oh! Uh… yeah. Wait do you mean the dog or… I… yeah I guess.” he fumbled his words as he jammed his hat back on his head. “I’m… I’m just w-watching him for a bit.” he chuckled, his mouth twitching as he fumbled with his hands. Kent was a jittery little shit to start with, but he was far more nervous then usual.

“You seem a little bugged out, bud? Y’alright?” He cocked a brow at him, earning a nervous laugh.

“I- I’m f-fine M-mayor. Just n-never taken care of a d-dog before.” he rubbed a hand to the back of his head. “I-I gotta go get h-him some food.” Hancock watched as the pre-war ghoul patted the dog’s head and beckoned him towards Daisy’s presumably. He took a deep breath, the buzz he’d been enjoying seemed to dull into a mild hum in the back of his mind. That Dog never left the Vaultie’s side. Something was wrong.

“Never fucking get what you ask for.” he hissed as he turned back into the statehouse, kicking the balcony door shut behind him as he took the steps two at a time to get to the main floor, and Fehr who was sitting at her desk, sifting through papers and reports from the daytime watchmen who had cleared out. “Let’s hear the news shall we?” His voice drew her attention, evidently she was surprised by his appearance. Usually she’d have to bring it to him.

“Well well, look who it is. I didn’t think you knew how to find my office any more.” she smirked until she saw the look on his face. “Alright, something’s got your panties in a wad -”

“Let’s hear it Fehr.” he growled.

“Well, a drifter tried stealing some snack cakes from Daisy. He got a knife to the hand. That MacCready fellow is back in the Third rail. Some gunner nutcases were following him outside the gate, but they turned away pretty quick. They wouldn’t wanna start a fight with Goodneighbor. The super mutants up the road have seemed to be getting closer, we might want to send someone to deal with that soon, before it becomes a problem… there are still raiders disappearing around Pickman gallery…” Hancock’s stare was focused on a blank spot on the wall. None of this was what he was looking for.

“Anything else?”

“Mmmh… Well, there was a report from a few hours ago. Something went down in the memory den. Your chatty Cathy and synth went in there. Couple of hours later the watch responded to some shouting and screaming from inside, but Irma and Amari practically chased them out, but you know how it gets sometimes. Folks end up remembering things they don’t want to see.” Hancock stiffened, stepping towards her.

“What else, did anyone else report anything after that?” His stomach was in knots, his limbs felt like they weren’t attached.

“Blondie headed back to the Rexford, as far as I’m aware. That’s the last mention of it. Hey - Where are you going?!” Fehr stuffed the papers she had in her hand into the desk and snatched her combat rifle of of a nearby filing cabinet. Hancock had tore out of the room, throwing open the door to the statehouse and marching over to the Den. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Kent rounding the corner with Dogmeat. Immediately he grabbed the dog’s collar and tried pulling him back. Something had fucking happened alright, and he did not like it.

Stomping into the Memory den, he watched Irma who looked tired and rather agitated leap from her lounge chair, stepping towards the steps to Amari’s lab.

“Mayor Hancock, what a pleasure to see you, darling. Coming for a social visit today?” she purred.

“Irma, I’m not going to fuck around here. Where’s Nick?” The sultry look she’d been trying to keep on her face faded.

“He- he’s with the doctor alright? and she doesn’t need any disturbances.” They shared a moment of staring. She was trying hard to stare him down. Behind him, he could hear Fehr stumbling into the den.

“ _I’m seeing Nick._ ” he demanded pushing passed her towards the stairs.

“You can’t go down there H-” There was a small scuffle, but Irma didn’t follow him as he stomped down the steps. Fehr must have got a hold of her. He reached the tile floor of the lab and immediately stopped in his tracks. Nick was seated in one of the chairs, slumped forward. His hat was on his lap, the back of his head was…open? Nick was violently not human, but Hancock’s stomach lurched all the same at the wires that ran from his head to the machine that the doc was rapidly typing on.

“What the _FUCK_ is going on?” The doc yelped, hand slamming down on the keyboard. Nick gave a violent lurch back in his chair.

“You all done fuckin around doc? I got a job to do.” he snapped, but the voice that came out of him was _not_ Nick’s voice. It was low, rough, gravelly. The laugh that followed was cruel, twisted, and made the ghoul want to rip out his throat to stop the sound from continuing.

“Mayor Hancock!” snapped the woman turning on him. “I have work to do, and I cannot be doing that while you’re here _yelling at me_.

“Why does he sound like that?” Hancock hated the shake in his voice. “Start fucking explaining or I’m not goin' anywhere.” He couldn’t look away from the synth in the chair that was now fighting against the restraints that held his wrists to the chair.

“Mayor, I am trying to reverse the damage that has been done, and time is of the essence, if you want to know what is happening without making the situation worse, I suggest you find the woman and get out of my way so I can stop this from getting worse!” Amari shouted, turning away from the ghoul and back tot he computer. The clicking of her fingers was drowned out by the growling and grunts of the synth who was trying to escape…and then he stopped. Nick’s glowing eyes went dark and he slumped forward again, the room filling with a heavy silence, only the pounding of Hancock’s heart in his hears left behind. “Now can I work in peace?” If it had been any other day, he’d have torn that doctor a new asshole, but he didn’t want to be there if Nick - or the thing that was once Nick woke back up. He couldn’t handle it.

Hancock took the steps two at a time, barely even sparing a glance at Irma who was settled in her chair, Fehr standing beside her with her arms crossed. While Fehr could be a force to be reckoned with, he was sure Irma didn’t want to tango, and it didn’t look like she’d fought much. He didn’t like causing problems with folks that didn’t give him an issue, especially the busiest business Goodneighbor had but this was a special kind of situation. This was Nick. He couldn’t say that he was best friends with the man - synth, but they’d known each other for a long time. Since he was a boy, in fact. Since him and his fuck-nugget of a brother stumbled into Diamond city, parents dead and looking for a safe place to live.

Hancock didn’t take too well to the cushy life of Diamond city. He always found himself getting into trouble, and Nick valentine wasn’t too far behind. Most of the people of diamond city just gave him hell. They didn’t try to steer him in any kind of direction, and his older brother was too busy to pay any mind to young John, except to give him hell along with the rest of them. It was Nick who pulled him out of trouble, it was Nick who had been a friend to him, even when he got old enough to get out of the city and start his journey’s to Goodneighbor. More then once Nick had pulled his drunk and high ass back to Diamond city to keep him from getting himself into more trouble then he could handle. It was Nick that helped Hancock as best he could to get the ghouls out of Diamond city, to collect their belongings to return to those who had been thrown out before they had the chance to go home… and now Nick was… he was…

Hancock flew up the stairs to the only room of the Rexford that wasn’t a long term rental, pounding on the door so hard that he was damn sure it was about to fly of the hinges.

“Open up the door sunshine, I gotta have a _word_ with you.” he snarled, the grown in his voice was more of a growl then ever. “ _Open the fucking door!_ ” His fist net the door again and again, drywall dust rained down from the frame that was coming loose.

“She’s not here!” snapped a voice from the end of the call. Claire had obviously run up the stairs, seeing as she was out of breath. “If you’d have _asked_ instead of barging up here and trying to take apart my hotel, I’d have told you that.” Her glare made him want to stick his fist through the door that much more. Just to be spiteful.

“Then where the _fuck_ is she?” he started towards the stairs.

“I’m a hotel manager, not a bitch sitter. Talk to your fuckin’ watch, they’re good for something right?” He stopped as he passed her, staring hard. He wanted to give her a piece of his mind, remind her who’s town she was in, but the last thing he wanted was a war with Markowski. He wasn’t the king pin he was back in the day, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t his own special brand of pain in the ass. Plus, he was his best chem supplier. Fehr was waiting for him outside the Rexford, smoke hanging out of her mouth, arms still crossed.

“She’s at the Rail.” she said, taking a drag. “But seeing the attitude you’re sporting you might wanna get her out of the rail before you beat her head in. Bad for business.” Beat her head in? Maybe.

“I just wanna _talk_.”

“Uh huh.” Fehr was wearing a smirk, maybe she was hoping Hancock would lay down some good old fashioned justice. Maybe he would. Maybe this was all just one big fucking misunderstanding. Before he could dole out some proper punishments, he needed some fucking answers.

The vaultie was indeed in the rail, seated in one of the worn armchairs, legs extended in front of her, a bottle of wine gripped in one hand. She was sitting stiff as a board wearing sunglasses and the same clothes she’d been in the night before, except the addition of a scarf around her neck. She didn’t even move was he stomped up to her.

“We gotta have a talk, _sunshine_.” he growled. She turned her head slightly to look up at him, but her silence infuriated him more, he kicked the bottom of her foot. “Did you _fucking hear me_? Get up off your ass, we’re going upstairs for a little chat, or I’m going to have Fehr here toss you over her shoulder and drag you up there.” It seems the threat got her moving. She pulled in her legs and used a hand to get herself to her feet. She seemed stiff, measured… though he _had_ just threatened her. She jerked her head at the stairs, pushing her sunglasses higher up on her nose as she shuffled through the bar and to the steps. Fehr nodded at him, following her up the steps.

It occurred to him at that moment that just about every patron in the bar was staring at him after his outburst.

“Get back to the party folks, just taking care of business.” There was almost a simultaneity shrug from the patrons and the chatter of the rail picked up almost instantly. Fehr would take the girl to his estate, but before he got there he needed a fix. He pulled out his jet inhaler from his pocket, taking a huge toke. He felt the burn in his lungs, and only let it out when he felt he was about to burst. The high shot through his limbs, but it was a welcome feeling. He had no doubt that in his state he could go off the rail at any moment. He took a steadying few breaths before marching up the steps of the rail and into the statehouse. When he reached his floor he turned into his office. Fehr was standing in the doorway, the smirk she’d been wearing earlier long gone, that stone cold glare glued back in it’s usual spot.

Alysa was seated on his couch just as still as she was before, the sunglasses hadn’t moved. In the stillness and light of the statehouse he could see her chest heaving. Good, he seemed to have scared her. There was a sound that was bothering him though… sounded like a hissing.

“So? You gonna start fuckin’ talking or am I gonna have to pull it out of you?” No response. She only took a sip of her wine. “I went to see Nick. Watch told me there was some kind of scuffle, and when I go to check it out, Nick’s opened up in Amari’s den and sounding like a whole other person. Get. To. Explaining. _Now_.” He stopped in front of her, staring down at those reflective glasses. She cleared her throat. He braced for her to finally start talking, but instead… she brought that fucking bottle to her lips. He let out a growl, an absolutely inhuman sound that only came out at the worst of times. He grabbed the bottle, splashing some of the red down her front.

Alysa jerked forward, coughing and sputtering. Wine spewing out of her mouth and onto the floor. He’d jumped back just in time. The sound of her coughing was fucking awful, and she didn’t seem able to stop. She slid from the couch, the glasses falling to the floor as she moved to her hands and knees, wheezing. Gasping. She sounded like she was fucking dying. He looked to Fehr who was as wide eyed as he was.

“Breathe, sunshine. I want some answers. Don’t die because of some cheap fucking wine.” he hadn’t even had a crack at her. The coughing got worse. And then she was retching, a hoarse sound that was like nails on a chalkboard. Fehr shook her head, stalking out of the room, probably standing in the hall. She didn’t want to be the one to clean up the mess. God fucking dammit. What the _hell_ was happening.

Hancock stood over the blonde waiting for her coughing to stop, which it eventually did, leaving only a heavy rasping. It sounded like someone had tried to shove something down her wind pipe. She stayed on the ground head down. Her whole body was shaking like a fucking leaf.

“I tried to stop him.” Her voice was quiet, and absolutely wrecked. If he didn’t know any better he’d have guessed it was a ghoul speaking, not the pretty little vaultie that was wagging her fingers at him the night before.

“ _What?_ ”

“I tried to stop him!” she roared, a hand reaching up to rip away the scarf from her throat as she raised his head to stare him in the face.

The wine bottle shattered on the floor.

The blood vessels in her eyes had burst, her blue eyes surrounded by vibrant red; her throat was spattered with bruises and claw marks. From his time on the streets and his own experience with the rougher side of the commonwealth, he knew what had caused the damage without asking. Someone had tried to strangle her.

“What the fuck.”

Hancock helped the girl back onto the couch and went searching for some water, opening the can and handing it to her, taking a seat beside her. She coughed a few more times after drinking, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A smear of blood was left behind. He wasn’t as furious as he was before, the feeling had settled into one of exhaustion and confusion. He sat in silence, digging through his pockets to find his tin of mentats and picking out a few to chew.

“I tried to stop him.” she croaked again, chest still heaving. She didn’t bother putting the sunglasses back on. “I really did. He decided this. It wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t my-” She erupted into a fit of coughing again, still violent and leaving her gasping. Streaks of tears fell down her face and off her jaw. Guilt settled into Hancock’s gut.

“Easy, Alysa.” It was the first time he’d used her name since her found her in the rail. “Just… easy.”

“N-no!” she rasped, the can of water in her hand being dented as she squeezed it. “I- I have to.” 

“Alright sunshine, but breathe first. Can’t tell anyone anything if you’re dead.” Hancock reached over, a hand gently resting on the shoulder furthest to him, he gave it a gentle squeeze, and with this small trace of physical comfort… the floodgates opened.

She told him everything.

She started at the day the bombs dropped. The calm and normal morning she had with her husband. The flash of light as the bomb landed. The slow and cold decent into the Vault. Waking up to Nate being shot and screaming, pounding against the glass as Kellogg took her son. Crawling out of the vault to the wasteland, the apocalypse. The nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. Joining the minute men. Finding the brotherhood squad in Cambridge. Finding Nick Valentine. Travelling with Nick. Finding Kellogg and the information about the institute. Putting the chip in Nick’s head to access the memories. Watching her family’s destruction all over again. Waking up from the memory pod and going to meet Nick, where she found Kellogg instead, a Kellogg that was absolutely fucking pissed. She dumped her heart out on the goddamn floor.

And Hancock? He just listened. He hung onto every word. Sometimes his hand rubbed small circles into her back as she caught her breath, or fought away the sobs that threatened to unbalance her breathing. The word vomit eventually faded into whispered apologies, whether they were to him, Nick, or any of the other folks she had mentioned in her journey.

God did he feel like brahmin shit. Real awful shit too. He was so angry, so protective of Nick that he made a straight up asshole of himself. He wasn’t the only one worried about Nick. Her shoulders still shook, her apologies continuing on repeat, and he sat there a little lost. He could deal with anger, lust, crazy, but sadness was something far out of his range. His gray eyes kept watch on Alysa, a hand now covering her face, the can of water on her knee.

The ghoul tried to think of the last time someone had comforted him. At first the memories wouldn’t come, instead were the ones of him sitting alone in an alley somewhere or in the statehouse, getting himself fucked up enough to not feel. No, that wouldn’t do, that's not what she needed right now. _Dig deeper, man_. Slowly one crept into his mind. A young John weeping, a cat in his hands. It was injured. Very injured. He ran into the run down shack by the water into he arms of his mother. She was a frail looking woman at best, but immediately upon seeing her son, she threw her arms around him, lifting him to her chest, cradling him.

Hancock didn’t know if it was appropriate. Hell, he didn’t even know if she wouldn’t smack him upside the head or punch him in the ribs for trying, but he did it anyways. He wiggled the can from her fist and put it on the table. Slowly, as if dealing with a wounded animal, he slid one hand under her knees, the other staying across her back. He lifted her, pulling her close as his mother had once done for him. He expected a fight. He expected some cold words, maybe even her pushing off of him and landing on the floor… but it never came. Instead the woman snaked his arms around his chest, her fists balling up into his frock coat, her head turning to bury itself into his neck. For some reason he felt tears swell up in his own eyes as he held her, cradling her shaking form to his own.

Her warmth, the feel of her breath on her neck, her soft hair under his cheek, the smell of her shampoo. The tugging on his coat as she clung to him, the tightness around his body. How long had it been since he’d held someone like this? He didn’t know this woman more then two goddamn days and here she was. His heart pounded. Could she feel it? Could she feel the shake in his hands as he pressed her tighter to his chest?

Hancock was always down for a good fuck, that wasn’t a secret. Working folks, drifters, strangers, old friends guys, girls. It didn’t matter to him, getting his dick wet just came naturally in his life but affection? Real affection? This was… new. This was strange. And good fucking god did he not want to let go. Even as her sobbing stopped and her breathing slowed into a strained calm, he held her tight.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered into his neck. “I… I don’t know where that came from.”

Alysa was just as equally not ready to let go. If the arm on her back has sent her over the edge, this was an oasis in the desert that had become her life. Since she’d woken up from the vault, the most physical affection she’d received was a handshake, maybe a clap on the shoulder. When Hancock had stormed down into the rail, she was expecting to end up in a gutter somewhere at best, honestly. She’d gotten the hint from most of the people around Goodneighbor that he was just as violent as he’d been to Finn on their first day. If he’d stabbed the guy for a little extortion, what would he do to the woman who was responsible for Nick… getting hurt. She certainly didn’t expect to find comfort here in his arms. She pressed her face into his neck inhaling deeply. He smelled like Whiskey and spice. And a hint of cigarette smoke. The skin of his neck was surprisingly soft. The scarring was textured yes, but not rough.

“Don’t apologize.” His voice was gruff, and she heard a little shake in it. She could feel the rumble in his throat when he spoke, the soft tissue of his scars thrumming against her lips. She giggled. Well, kind of giggled, it was an odd sound considering the shape of her throat at the moment. “What’s so funny?” She did it again.

“That tickles.” she whispered into his skin. She felt him shiver.

“You’re tellin me.” it was his turn to chuckle. For his heart to give a little skip. Her breath was so impossibly warm. His hand slid up her back, long her hair, running a hand over it, smoothing it down. She hummed softly in approval, new tears springing into her eyes, but these ones weren’t filled with so much hurt. She didn’t know how much she needed this until it was there. He was so impossibly warm, his large body wrapped around her like a shield from the outside world. She pulled a hand from under his side, following the bright red frock coat until her fingertips net his throat.

“May I?” she asked, earning only a nod in response. His voice had caught in his throat, his breath trapped in his chest as he felt her hand slide up his neck. She traced the grooves in his skin, feeling the difference between the scars and the unmarred bits. His head tilted back, his dark eyes fluttering shut at the gentle caresses. He didn’t even flinch as she traced the ridge of where his ear had once been. Instead he gasped, his hand tightening on her hair long enough for him to steady himself before he managed to wiggle the end of her braid into his grasp. He pulled the tie from the end of it and began to unweave it, his fingertips eventually running from her scalp to the ends. She gave another hum of approval as he did.

When was the last time someone played with her hair? Shivers ran down her body, every hair stood on end, the feeling running straight from her scalp to her toes. It was her turn to gasp, and his to apologize.

“Don’t.” she whispered, repeating his words back to him. “Don’t apologize.” She continues caressing his neck, the back of his head. Her fingers dipped under his tricorn hat, gently kneading at the skin. She wasn’t sure if his scarred skin would be sensitive to touch, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he groaned. His breathing was almost as uneven as hers. Maybe he needed this comfort too. She kept massaging at his skin until his breathing evened out a little, then slowly she wiggled her other arm out from behind his back and pushed off against the couch to sat up a bit. His hand in her hair stopped, resting on the back of his shoulder as his eyes peeled open, meeting hers.

Somewhere in the impossible black of his eyes were streaks of gray, the light from the lantern on his desk reflected off of them as her hand lifted from his neck to his cheek, her thumb brushed across his jaw, her fingertips tracing more of the intricate pattern of his face, that cut through his lips. As the pads of her fingers brushed across them, his lips parted, his warm breath sending a tremor up her spine, followed by him pressing his lips harder to them.

Glory, her skin was like fucking silk. She was so goddamn gentle. He didn’t know how to handle it. His body was confused, but desperate. He wanted to grab her. He wanted to feel her soft skin under his palms, to pull her tight to him, to give her the same affection she’d been giving him in slow curious motions… but he was barely able to move. Even the hand that was at the back of her neck, his fingers knotted in her hair was unsure of how to move.

He followed her eyes as she examined him, as she explored his face without shame, without a hint of disgust. There wasn’t even a rush to her movements as usually was with the smooth skins that made their way into his company. A rush to get to the action and get a move on. Not two days ago this woman had seen her first ghoul, and now here she was, tipping his tricorn hat off his head so that her hands could run across the top of his head. He was damn sure that if he still had hair it would be standing on end. He lowered his head as both hands ran across the top of his head and down to his neck.

Alsya sucked in a breath as Hancock’s hand that wasn’t on the back of her neck found it’s way to her hip. He didn’t go for an ass grab, or anything naughty, instead he held it firmly, his thumb rubbing circles into her hip, just brushing under the edge of her shirt there the skin had been exposed. Her toes curled as she twisted her legs to the side a little, moving so that she wasn’t leaning so hard on his arm. Unlike the skin of his neck, his fingers had a slight roughness to them, perhaps from years of work, or just the wear and tear of commonwealth she didn’t know, but it was nice. No. It was amazing.

Alysa’s hand crept forward to the ghoul’s jaw, her thumbs pushing his head back so that he was looking at her again. Seeing him now, up close and quiet, it was hard for her to picture the angry violent man that had been here not long ago, though people often had many sides to them. She liked this side. She liked the warmth that radiated off of him, the feel of his body pressed against hers. She decided not to dwell on whether it was because she was just so goddamn lonely, or if it was Hancock himself. She swallowed hard as her fingertips ran over his face again, swooping along the dark circles under his eyes, across the ridge of his nose, where it had once attached, and back down to his lips. She hesitated there, running her thumb back and forth slowly, her eyes locked on them.

“Something on your mind, sister?” he mumbled, his lips not parting enough for the pad to leave either of them. She mouthed something, but no sound came out as she moved her thumb away. She licked her lips.

And then she Kissed him.

Her lips were softer then Hancock could ever have imagined, as she cradled the back of his head, pulling him tighter to her. The kiss was gentle, sweet but there was a need there that he had no doubt that he was returning in kind. When was the last time he’d been kissed? He’d had his dick sucked more times then he could count, maybe once in a blue moon he’d get a kiss on the cheek. The odd ghoul wouldn’t mind a kiss, but not like this. This wasn’t trying to fuel an agenda… mostly anyways. Maybe the kiss was the agenda? He smiled into the kiss his hand tightened him her hair, the hand on her hip slid under her shirt, palming at the soft skin of her back.

Alysa whimpered into his mouth, her hands tightening as his fingers ran long the skin of her back. She parted for a few raspy breaths before delving into it once more, feverish, and needy, Hancock felt like he could easily become putty in her hands, and she hadn’t even reached below his belt. Who the fuck was this woman?

The ghoul’s tongue brushed upon her lips, and Alysa was open to the invitation. Even his tongue was textured… and tingled? He smirked into the kiss before pulling away for just a moment.

“Rads sister. Gives a little sizzle huh?” he purred. She hummed in response as he pressed his lips to hers once more, this time harder, hungrier. And she didn’t stop him. Her hands found the top buttons of his shirt, pulling them apart, her hands searching for contact with his chest. If he wasn’t wearing that blasted frock coat, she’d go from the bottom, but colonial dress wasn’t exactly made for make-out sessions.

Hancock’s hand slipped from her hair, to her jaw, being ever so careful of her throat as he pulled away, leading a wet trail from the corner of her mouth to her throat. Her body stiffened, her breath caught in her chest as she realized where he was heading… but he was so gentle. He started under her left ear, inch by inch kissing the bruised and battered skin as best he could reach. All the while she squirmed under him, now well aware of the hard lump that was pressing into her ass. She hissed as he nipped at her earlobe.

“I told you that you were trouble.” she whispered as he pulled away far enough to get a look at her. Her lips were plump and swollen, her entire face flushed a brilliant red, her hair in a tousled mess of waves. That image would be seared into his brain.

“It’s what I’m good at, sunshine.” he smirked back at her, leaning in for another kiss when the door to the statehouse slammed shut. Footsteps, what sounded like multiple pairs came thundering up the steps. Startled, Alysa pushed back on his chest, landing on the ground with a thud. Hancock leapt to his feet, a hand reaching down to his boot to wrench his knife free, waiting for whoever had just come charging up to his quarters.

He almost laughed.

Dogmeat reached the floor, charging across the room followed by Kent who stood in the doorway, panting hard.

“She didn’t do it!” he cried loudly, hands on his knees. “S-s-she d-didn’t h-hurt the det-t-t-tective!” He stood up straight, scooping his hat off of his head, trying his best to look stern. “I-I saw th-the whole thing. S-she didn’t hurt n-no one. D-don’t hurt ‘er.” Behind Hancock, Alysa got to her feet, smiling. “P-please.” he added, refusing to look their mayor in the eyes.

“You got a real fuckin’ set of balls on you, Connolly.” said Hancock, but without any Malice. Kent still took a step back.

“Hancock, don’t be an ass.” Alysa squeezed passed him, smiling at the poor ghoul who probably had to muster every bit of courage he had in his entire body to rush up on the mayor like that. “I’m alright Kent.” His face lit up as he spotted her.

“Oh th-thank god.” he stepped forward taking one of her small hands in his. They were about the same height, but he wouldn’t look her in the eyes either. He was absolutely shaking.

“Kent, it’s okay. It’s okay, we just had a misunderstanding that’s all. We’re okay. I’m okay.” she took her hands from his and ended up cradling his, patting them. “Deep breaths. In, out.” Alysa calmed the poor ghoul as best she could as Dogmeat ran to Hancock running circles around his legs and nuzzling at his hands. He sighed and scratched the pooch around the ears. He suddenly felt cold, and for a ghoul that was pumping out heat that wasn’t a common thing. He wanted to yank Alysa clear out of Kent’s hands and pull her back against him, but the moment had passed. He moved to his fridge and pulled out a Nuka Cola. It wasn’t by any means cold, but it was something.

“You look like you need a drink.” he said to Kent, walking up to him and holding out the bottle. He nodded quickly, taking his hands from Alysa’s to fumble with the bottle. He shared a glance with the blue eyed vaultie followed by a chuckle as he made for one of the arm chairs, lighting up a smoke while fumbling for his Jet.

Alysa took the bottle from Kent and used her wedding ring to pop off the top before leading him to the couch where Hancock and herself had been tangled up not minutes ago. She didn’t sit though. She wiped at her face, removing any evidence of her previous emotional moment. Her plump lips still remained.

“I uh… I guess I’ll be in Goodneighbor for a little while. If that’s fine with you Mr. Mayor.” She reached into her shirt pocket to pluck out her pack of smokes. “Fuck!” she hissed, realizing that at some point they’d been crushed. Hancock tossed his pack of smokes at her. She caught it surprisingly well.

“Well I got some work if you’re interested.” At the very least this job would get the vaultie back at the statehouse. He definitely wanted her to come back to the statehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when two individuals who don't get affection very often find comfort in one another? I go weak in the knees that's what.
> 
> I hope it sounds as good to you guys as it did reading it in my head.


	5. Keeping Busy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock's attitude leaves Alysa with no place to go, and a whole lot of work to do.

Alysa sighed, throwing her hand in the air in defeat before heading straight back up to her room. The night before had ended on a good note, to her surprise. Kent hung around The Old State house for a while, him and Hancock had convinced her to use a few stimpaks so she didn’t suffocate in her sleep, ‘ _I ain’t gonna be the one to explain to ol’ Nicky that you died after his little lapse in judgement’_ , Hancock wielded guilt like he did his knife. Kent walked her home, and she’d promised to stop by the next day to discuss some sort of plan he had. After his reckless display of bravery trying to ‘save’ her, she could hardly say no. If he’d barged in while Hancock was still in a frothing rage, she couldn’t have guaranteed his safety. Even the ghoul mayor had been impressed.

Today though? Sucked so far. She’d awoken having leaked all over her only damn shirt, that she needed to wash, her lighter had crapped out, and Claire was not letting her stay another night. Apparently having the Mayor all but start kicking down doors was not a good look for the hotel, or very good for the woman’s sanity. It sucked, but honestly she couldn’t blame her. The entire situation was fucked up.

Alysa’ bag was packed in about half hour, her mismatched armor and weapons strapped into place and ready to go. Even though she was annoyed with Claire, Alysa tidied the room as best she could, being mad didn’t mean she got to be an ass.

“Come on, boy. Time to get our asses in gear.” She called to Dogmeat who had been happily snoozing in the armchair. He gave a whine before slinking out of his spot to greet her. He stretched before giving her hand a sniff. “Your nose is cold. Very cold.” she muttered before giving him a scratch behind the ears. “We got a long walk ahead of us today. I hope you got some good sleep.” As much as she wanted to stay close to Nick, it seemed like Diamond city would be her best chance at a place to rest her head for the night. If she didn’t score enough caps off of Hancock and Kent to rent a room at the Dugout, she could probably convince Ellie to let her sleep in Nick’s bed. Maybe. If she didn’t try to kill her, which was definitely a possibility.

The blonde shut the door after Dogmeat, shouldering her pack. What a fucking day. She turned down the hall just as someone was coming out of the room in front of her. A ghoul sporting a yellow overcoat and hat. A hum of familiarity buzzed in the back of her mind.

“Hey there,” she said with a wave of her hand. The man, who was jiggling the lock to the door, stopped and turned his head. His eyes nearly bugged out on to the floor.

“What? No, it cant…” He abandoned the door completely as he stepped forward, ducking his head a little to see under her minuteman hat. “It…it… it’s YOU! From Sanctuary hills right?” What? How could he possibly know this? She squinted at him, trying to recall when she’d run into a ghoul before ol’ colonial stabbed what’s his face just the other day. Realization hit her like a goddamn train. The day the bombs fell, the knock at her door. Her whining to Nate about having to deal with a door to door salesman. She was never any good at dealing with them, she’d been guilted into buying way too many unnecessary things over the years.

“You’re the fucking Vault-tec salesman!”

“I AM vault-tec! Twenty years of loyal service, and now look at me. I wasn’t on the list.” Guilt pooled in Alysa’s stomach. “But you. LOOK at you. Two hundred years and you’re still perfect! How? _How is that possible?!”_

“The vault? Yeah, it _wasn’t_ the under ground post apocalyptic paradise it was cracked up to be. The entire thing was filled with these cryo pods, I was only thawed out recently, and I was the _only_ one to crawl out of that hole alive.” Her and Shaun anyways, but he didn’t need to know that.

“What? Vault-tec never told me _that!_ Unbelievable!” he hissed, shaking his head. She wasn’t sure if he was annoyed with her still, or the evil vault corporation of doom. “Well, I had to get to the future the hard way. Living through the… filth! The decay, and the bloodshed!” At this point he was probably just mad at the world, and she couldn’t blame him, she understood well enough. “Look at Me! I’m a ghoul! A freak! They just left me there…”

“I’m so sorry.” Alysa reached out, laying a hand on his arm. He jerked back a bit, not enough to pull away, but clearly he was surprised at the gesture. “I-I didn’t know this would happen.” If she ever found the Vault-tec guys chilling in some vault somewhere she’d give them a real hard piece of her mind. Salesman were their own special brand of evil, in her opinion, but as far as she knew? This guy didn’t deserve it.

“You know… you’re the only other person I met from… from before. That I knew before. I… uh….” His expression turned from annoyed to sad in an instant. “Oh god… I’ve been so alone here! No commonwealth settlement wants a ghoul with 200 years of vault-tec sales experience!”

“There are lots of settlements in the commonwealth, I’m sure you can find something, what about diamond city, they have lots of space int he market.” He frowned at her.

“Diamond city bigots don’t allow ghouls inside” he spat. Ah, That explained why the people of Goodneighbor weren’t exactly fond of the place. That kind of shit boiled her blood, and made her really annoyed with Hancock for fucking up her sleeping arrangements. “It’s just here, or back at sanctuary talking to that crazy robot of yours.”

“Well, it’s not just the crazy robot at sanctuary any more. It’s a nice little settlement. By the time I get back there it’s going to be even bigger, I know it. It’s even the current headquarters for the minutemen.” She watched his dark eyes light up. “I’ve got some work to do here, a friend of mine is sick, and I don’t want to go that far until I know he’s better. After that, I have to go back there, check up on things, I could take you there, and because it’s headquarters I get back there as often as I can. I’d come visit.”

“Really? You… you will?” His gravely voice got rougher. Oh god she didn’t make him cry did she? She had enough of her own waterworks the night before, and she didn’t need to be another waterlogged mess. No thank you. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll get all my stuff ready. I’m ready to leave when you are! Just say the word!”

Alysa left the Rexford as soon as she had been able to politely slip away from the Vault-tec guy. Richard was his name, apparently. Rick to his friends. She just avoided using either as best she could. He was nice enough, but she already had two puppies following her around, she was weary of gaining another one. Speaking of puppies, the vault dweller slowly opened the door to the memory den, expecting Irma to throw something at her. Much to her surprise, the woman gave her an update on Nick. He was in and out of himself, and Amari was working on getting rid of the implants in his memory. It was still too soon for her to go down for a visit, but perhaps tomorrow. 

The promise of tomorrow gave Alysa a new bounce to her step, even after listening to Kent’s wild scheme about bringing the Silver Shroud to life. It was absolutely bananas, but she found herself agreeing with him, in a way. The commonwealth didn’t have someone to kick some ass when people were doing fucked up shit. Well… the closest thing they had to that was the Minutemen, but they were more about protection then outright fighting the shitheads that were causing trouble. She liked the idea, but somehow she couldn’t see Kent dressing up as the shroud and running out onto the streets of Goodneighbor shooting people. She’d get the costume for him, what he was going to do after that would come then.

The blonde fiddled with her pip-boy as she headed towards the old state house, Dogmeat giving a warning bark as she came face-to-face with the door, nearly having walked smack into it.

“Good job, buddy. You got a sharp eye.” She ignored the watchmen who were staring pretty hard. Fantastic. She was greeted by Farenheit, who looked as sour as she ever did, standing at the top of the steps. “Mayor said he had work for me.” she called up as she started making her way up the stairs. The woman made a face and walked towards a set of closed doors opposite of the room she had practically dragged Alysa into the night before.

“Sit down, and shut up. Hancock will be with you when he’s ready.” she barked over her shoulder at the blonde. That woman really didn’t fucking like her. She moved into the lounge, looking about the place. The wine bottle Hancock had dropped was cleaned up, the bottles on the table that had accumulated from him and Kent were also cleaned up. The evidence of last night’s… events were gone… except for the bubbling in her stomach. She eyed the couch for a moment before turning away from it and to the nearest window, staring out onto the streets below. She was suddenly nervous. Shy? Her cheeks flushed as she thought about the colonial Ghoul himself. His hands were so soft. He had held her so tight, even as every bone in her body seemed to turn to mush. Last night was the first time anyone had touched her in… a long time. It was overwhelming in so many ways, and he… he seemed to have gotten something out of it too. She knew he was a dog, a man whore, the folks in the rail had been whispering pretty loudly of their escapades with the man, despite her trying to ignore them, she heard loud and clear. He hadn’t acted like it though.

As her fingers explored his skin, she remembered the look on his face. Not like a hungry dog about to rip into it’s next meal, but it was like he was savoring it. The sounds that had briefly escaped him brought shivers down her spine, and that was only a few kisses, a meeting of tongues and some not even heavy petting. She wondered what sounds he would make if Kent hadn’t interrupted.

“Mornin’ Sunshine.” Alysa literally jumped backwards with a loud gasp, slamming directly into the ghoul that had been on her mind. Her heart was lodged somewhere in her throat as he steadied her, his deep chuckle echoing through her head. “Alright there, sister?” She whirled to see him grinning down at her, one brow cocked.

“I am… I need a fucking smoke.” she growled, digging through her pockets to find her pack, steadily avoiding eye contact with him. Unfortunately she’d gotten a glimpse of the rest of him. He’d put on his hat, his pants (Flag hanging, he hadn’t bothered to tie it yet) and his Jacket. No shirt. She pried her eyes off of his chest, forcing back the curiosity that had grabbed hold of her the night before. Retrieving the pack, she remembered the flip lighter that was now in the bottom of her pack…that wasn’t working. “Actually, I need a lighter.” she grumbled, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Here.” Hancock said, holding out a lighter to her, she could feel the heat on her nose. She popped a smoke between her lips and used the flame to light it.

“Thanks.” She failed to keep her gaze off of him. He was smirking. Her knees? Yeah, they wandered off somewhere without her. They smoked in silence for a few minutes as Alysa organized her thoughts as best she could with Hancock standing not a foot from her. She felt like a goddamn teenager. She was a veteran. She was a fucking survivor that had been through the closest thing to hell she could put her damn finger on and here she was red-faced. “Let’s get down to business.”

“Any time sunshine.” he purred. Alysa couldn’t help it, her hand shot out to smack his shoulder.

“I meant business, business. You said you had a job for me.” He was going to be absolutely intolerable wasn’t he?

“Oh yeah, I did say that didn’t I?” He’s playful, but the Mayor was still a business man. He marched over to one of the armchairs and flopped down in it, fishing for his Mentat tin. He was way to sober to deal with business this early in the day. He had half a mind to tell Fehr to shoot anyone that woke him up before noon… except for his little vaultie. He’d make an exception for her. “There’s some weird talk coming in about a place called the Pickman Gallery.” He popped a few in his mouth as Alysa moved to sit, avoiding the couch they’d made use of last night. “It’s raider territory up there, but they’ve been quiet. Like, _uncomfortable_ post-coitus quiet? Snoop around and give me the word. Easy, in and out.”

“Anything else you can tell me about the place? I hate going in blind.”

“Aint got nothin’ ta tell ya. That’s why I’m paying you to go out there.” Alysa nodded, playing with buttons on her pip boy. “It’s somewhere up by old north church, near the bridge to bunker hill.”

“Bunker hill… is that a settlement?” She asked not looking up from her pip-boy.

“Trade hub. Most caravans in the area hit by there, good selling, and pretty defensible. Lady that runs the joint has a deal with raiders in the area. They leave her be if they can come in and trade.”

“What about beds? They got somewhere to sleep?” She glanced up to see the surprise on the ghoul’s face.

“Yeah, they do, s’far as I know. You ain’t likin’ the Godneighbor vibe, sunshine?” he almost looked offended.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Goodneighbor is my kind of place, and I’ve probably met more friendly people here then I’ve met in other places that weren’t demanding I give life and limb for their settlements. Except for you body guard.” She finished with her pip boy and snubbed out her smoke, surprised to not see Dogmeat at her feet. Turning her head she spotted the dog next to said bodyguard, getting a good bit of scratches. “Claire didn’t like ‘the vibe’ of having the mayor storming through her place and trying to kick down doors.” At least he had the decency to look guilty.

“Aw, shit. The hell you going to do about Nick then, Just gonna leave him alone?”

“I don’t exactly have much of a choice here, Hancock. Goodneighbor isn’t exactly brimming with hotels. It’s either that or Diamond City. I could stay at Nick’s place I’m sure, if Ellie doesn’t decide to shoot me in my sleep.” She rubbed her forehead looking down at her pack. She had a bunch of crap she wasn’t planning on taking with her to do her job for Hancock, but had no room for her to store it in. She’d been collecting things for Sturges to get some things up and running. She didn’t want to sell them but she only had so much room in her pack to spare. This whole day was just fucking frustrating.

Hancock pursed his lips, pulling them to one side as he watched the woman fumble with her bag. He could be a fucking idiot sometimes. He’d been so angry the night before when he found out Nick was… hurt, that he hadn’t really thought about the consequences of tearing everyone involved a new asshole. He felt like a dickhead, and he didn’t fucking like it.

“You could stay here.” Alysa’s head popped up at his suggestion, her eyes wide, brows raised, mouth hanging slightly open.

“I… wouldn’t want to impose. Plus it seems you have enough drifters making home upstairs, and I’d prefer some kind of semblance of privacy.” and she didn’t want to end up with empty pockets when she woke up. She didn’t want to be rude, but in a lawless town, it was kind of expected.

“I’m not talking about upstairs.” he kicked his boots up onto the coffee table. “I’m talking about this room, right here.” He threw his arms out, gesturing to his office/lounge. “It’s only for a couple days, the couches are comfy enough. There’s a kitchen that works.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulders t the stove sink and fridge behind him. “Mostly, I cant get the fridge to work for the life of me,” He could see the cogs turning in Alysa’s head, she was chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyebrows knitted together. “And there’s hot water.”

“ _What?_ ” Alysa’s eyes popped open, a hand resting over her mouth for a moment. He could have laughed, but he held it back. He was trying to get her to stay after all. He liked her company. She wasn’t here looking for a hand out. She could be funny and… last night. He shifted, trying to force those memories back down. The last thing he needed was his little soldier standing at attention while he was trying to convince her to stay. Fehr was absolutely going to chew him out the moment she was gone, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to keep her here as long as he could. He wanted to understand this vaultie, open her up like a book and figure out what the fuck was going on in that blonde little head of hers. The idea of her being inside of Diamond city’s gates bugged him more then anything else to be honest. He couldn’t get to her there. He couldn’t buy her a drink and hear that loud, obnoxious laugh. He couldn’t feel her soft hands trembling as they ran across his -

“Fine.” She finally burst out. “Fine I’ll do it. But _only_ because it’s close to Nick, and it’s convenient.” He wanted to make some off-handed joke, some flirtatious quip at her, but he didn’t want to ruin it. He could also feel Fehr glaring daggers at him. He refused to look over at her. “I uh… do you have somewhere I can put a few things? Pack’s a little full of stuff.”

“Yeah, sister, make yourself at home. There’s a suitcase over there with a key hanging out of it if you’re looking for a lock box.” She jumped up and headed over to it without hesitation, picking through her back and dumping a bunch of junk into it. Pieces of computers, tubes from machines. He dared not ask what they were all for.

“Okay, well that’s one crisis averted today, but I still got a lot of walking to do. I’ll be back when I can.” He looked over his shoulder as she slid her pack onto her back again, pulling her pistol from her thigh, checking it over, and doing the same with her combat rifle.

“Lookin’ forward to it sunshine.” he called as she disappeared out the door, her pooch tearing himself away from Fehr to follow.

And now he had the raging redhead to deal with. Fantastic.

Fehr had ripped him a decent sized new asshole about sucking up to this new woman. Basically told him to hurry up and fuck her so she could get the fuck out of Goodnighbor. Eventually she just gave up and stormed down to the rail to see Magnolia, leaving him in the hands of the neighborhood watch. Thank god he knew how to take care of himself.

The day went by slower then cold molasses, even after getting so much done. He went to apologized to Irma and Amari. They accepted after he left them each with a bottle of the finest wine he could get his hands on. Irma popped the cork the moment it was in her hands, but Amari said she’d save it for when Nick was feeling like himself again. Speaking of the old Synth, Amari let Hancock visit for a few minutes.

Hearing Nick’s voice brought a grin to the ghoul’s face, and he enjoyed shooting the shit until the synth asked about Alysa. Behind Nick he could see Amari shaking her head and waving her hands. He simply told Nick to worry about himself getting better before Amari ushered him back up the stairs. He did not want to be the one to tell Nick that he could have strangled the poor girl to death. After those stimpaks and a night of sleep, she looked hell of a lot better. There was still bruising around her throat when she’d come to see him int he morning, he could see it poking out of her vault suit, along with the scratches - presumably from her own nails as she tried to get Nick’s hands to release her. The though made him want to get sick all over the pavement. Jet washed away that feeling right quick.

Claire was less forgiving. Actually she wasn’t forgiving at all. No doubt he got the same speech Alysa had gotten earlier in the day about not being paid enough to put of with their bullshit. She had enough problems with overdoses and fights, she didn’t need any more. That worked well enough for him anyways, Alysa staying at the Old State house was a better arrangement for him. He waved her off over his shoulder as he headed back out onto the streets, heading to Daisy’s. He was having guests after all.

“You lead an interesting life, Hancock.” she said as he approached. “First you threaten a girl and then end up makin’ out with her? At least you know how to show a girl an interesting time.” He shook his head.

“She tall you that?”

“Nawh, the watch does a shit job of keepin’ their mouths shut. You gotta be more selective who watches the house. One day they’re gonna get you into trouble.” she wiped at the counter, even though it was pretty much as clean as it was gonna get. “But she did tell me that she’s stayin’ with you tonight huh? Girl’s wound tighter ten a top I tell ya. She needs it. Nearly screamed this morning when she was standing too close to Kleo and she moved too fast.”

“I… It’s not like that. She got kicked out of the rail.” Though he would keep that in mind.

“Pity for her I guess, but it’s not like you pay charity, so what gives?”

“Claire didn’t like me causing shit, it’s my fault she got booted so I’m evening the playing field. I owe her one, that’s all.” Daisy stared at him a little harder, trying to urge him to continue on, but he didn’t.

“Alright, so what do you need. As much as I enjoy our little one on one’s my personal time is after business hours, and it ain’t laundry day, so why are you here?”

“I got a guest, okay? Not like I have those often. I need things. Pillow I guess, blanket, clean towel? Clean as it gets anyways.” He tried to ignore the amused look on Daisy’s face. She looked like she had something to say, but she kept herself from doing so as she went through her stock, piling up a blanket, pillow, some towels sheets, food, and toiletries on her counter.

“Need anything else, you know where to find me.” she chirped back as she counted the Caps Hancock had counted out for her. “And don’t forget what I said!” she shouted as he fought to get the door to the statehouse open and carry his giant pile of crap. Oh, he certainly wouldn’t.

It was almost dark when Hancock heard the door to the statehouse slam shut downstairs. He nearly dropped his jet canister in surprise.

“Easy down there! This building is old!” He jumped out of his chair and headed to the open doors, looking down the steps at his vaultie, including her own pack, and had a duffle bag over her shoulder and another in her hand that looked like it was dripping blood. All over his floor. “What the fuck?”

“Stop staring, and get down here to help would you?” she snarled. He pocket his canister and did exactly that, taking the dripping back from her. “Go put that in the sink or something so it’s not dripping everywhere.” He made a face, mentally kicking himself back up the stairs as he literally ran for the sink, not wanting to make any more of a mess. The bag weighed a good amount, honestly he was a little afraid to open it, for all he knew there was a severed head in there. She could be crazy, hell if he fucking knew.

“What the _hell_ is all this?” he asked when she reached the top of the steps, dropping her bag down in the doorway and letting out a long sigh.

“Well, I got all of the stuff for Kent from Hubris, that was a fucking adventure.” She stepped into the light of the room and he could see how dirty she was, spattered with blood and grime and sweat… she also looked like absolute shit. Her lips were cracked, she was pale, she looked like she was about to drop dead at his feet. “Full of feral ghouls in that place. I wouldn’t doubt if they were all there for the filming of that tv show when the bombs hit. One of them was a fucking glowing.” He stepped towards her, hand extended when he heard a loud constant ticking sound. “That, would be my Geiger counter.” she grumbled, unlatching her pip boy. It immediately slowed down as she put it on the table and stepped away from it.

“Sister, you need some rad-away. Those glowing ones make me look like a picnic.”

“Yeah, no shit. That’s not even the beginning of my fuckin’ day. You’re friend Pickman? He was turning raiders in art pieces. Some macabre museum. I don’t know what those raiders did to piss him off, but holy fuck.” She made a face as she searched for a can of water in her pack.

“Wish I could say that was the most twisted thing I’ve ever heard of, but it ranks up there… Top three.” Hancock chuckled at the look on her face. “I’ll put the word out to keep people away from there.”

“Most people will be safe, I think. Not a body I found int here wasn’t a raider. Seems to me the man was searching for some justice”

“Did you find him?”

“Yeah, surrounded by raiders. I’d have probably just let them kill each other and get out, but hey turned their guns on me pretty quick.”

“Kill him?”

“Nope. He’s a man out for revenge, and if he stops some raiders from fucking with some poor settlers just trying to make their living, I wont mind.” She was honestly fuckin’ glad that Nick hadn’t joined her. He’d probably have a fit over her letting the guy live.

“Fair enough. Firing you was one of my better decisions. Here, spend the money in good health.” he picked a bag of caps out of his pocked and tossed it so they landed on her bag. “Now, just to be clear that bloody bag isn’t a souvenir is it?” Alysa laughed before draining the can and tossing it to the bin on the other side of the room. Bingo.

“No, it’s radstag. One bounced out right in front of me on my way back from Pickman’s. This, is a souvenir though. She reached into one of the pockets in her armor and pulled out a switch blade, popping it open before turning the handle to him. He took it, examining it as he turned it over in his fingers. It was well crafted, probably cost a pretty penny back in the day.

“So you brought back some radstag? Why didn’t you just stop at Daisy’s on the way up here? Coulda sold that for a decent price.”

“Um… you do know what dinner is, right?” Of course he knew what dinner was, but he hadn’t honestly expected her to cook. He had all the shit, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had used his stove for anything other then lighting a smoke, or heating up some water for a coffee if he could find some. “Alright, well I’mma cleaned up, and get some rad away in my system. As much as you rock the king of the zombies kind of look, that’s your style, I don’t wanna be a thief.” She’d make a seriously hot Ghoul though. Just saying.


	6. Playing House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of the world sets in as Alysa makes herself at home in the statehouse, and Hancock... thinks he likes it.

Alysa had never in her life been too much of religious person, despite her mother trying her best to teach her as a child, but she swore up and down that the hot bath she’d soaked in was absolutely a religious experience. She scrubbed every inch of her skin until it felt raw, rubbed her muscles, trying to be as careful as she could with the little noises that escaped her as she soothed her aching body in the heat. Hopefully the radio of her pip-boy had helped drown out the noises. The water had turned a horrible colour, but the heat and the smells of the soaps was enough to Keep her in the bath until Hancock knocked on the door to make sure she hadn’t drowned, and if she felt that she was about to she could call him.

“You’re just trying to get in here to see me naked!” she called back, only his laughter in response.

Clean and dry, Alysa pulled on her jeans and a grey t-shirt. She was grateful to have stumbled upon it in her travels of the day. She hadn’t had a chance to wash her milk soaked ones before, and day old breast milk was honestly a horrible fucking smell. Just because the world stunk didn’t mean that she had to stink. She drained the water and rinsed the tub, shouldering her toiletries bag and vault suit before heading back into the lounge. Hancock was sprawled on one of the arm chairs, eyes closed, legs kicked out in front of him.

“Going to sleep already? You haven’t even eaten yet.” she said as she passed, using her elbow to tip his hat. He caught it, clapping it to his head before fixing it back on. 

“Nah, sunshine, just enjoying the trip.” He stowed the Jet canister in his pocket as Alysa organized her things, fishing out a bag of Rad-away from her bag and heading to another one of the chairs. She stared at it for a moment before sighing and setting it atop the back of the chair so that it was higher then her arm. He watched in mild amusement as she searched the crook of her arm, squinting down at the skin to find a good spot. “Hold on, hold on. If there’s one thing I know it’s drugs. Lemme get you set up.” He rose from his seat and went to fetch an IV stand from the other room, setting it next to her and hooking the bag onto it.

“You seem very prepared for this kind of thing.” said Alysa eyeing the stand. Hancock chuckled as he wandered around the room grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and what looked like a mostly clean cloth. He poured a tiny bit of the antiseptic over the needle, and then onto the crook of her arm, wiping away the excess. His fingers brushed her skin, and goosebumps immediately showed. How was he so fucking impossibly warm.

“I’m a ghoul remember?” She watched the look on his face. His dark eyes were focused, concentrated as he examined her.   
“Doesn’t that mean that you shouldn’t be worried about rads?” The serious look broke for a second as he laughed.

“Not for me, sunshine. For my uh… company.” For his… oh. Her face went red and she looked away. The moment she did she felt the prick and pressure of the needle, and shortly after the cold medicine making it’s way into her body. She wished she’s thought to warm it up or something. She shut her eyes and just waited, trying to keep her thoughts away from Hancock and his… company. Off of Hancock and his warm hands. Off of the feeling of being held by him on the couch, his body heat seeping through that gaudy red jacket and to her own skin as her face buried into his neck. God she felt pathetic. The flick of a lighter and a clearing of someone’s throat pulled Alysa out of her thoughts. Her eyes popped open to find a cigarette in front of her face, already lit.

“Thanks.” She took it, sucking back a long drag and tilting her head back to let out a plume of smoke. “Pass me my pip-boy would you?” He snatched it up from on top of her bag and help her wrap it around her wrist. The radiation readings were going down, but not enough that she could be released from the grasp of the cold uncomfortable medicine. She didn’t have to be rid of it all, honestly she expected to be a little bit irradiated at all times, but she’d learned the hard way that rads built up quickly sometimes and left you very fucking sick. 

The two sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the Neighborhood watch shifting at their posts. Fehr could be heard in her office playing with Dogmeat. It was nice. Calm. Hancock blew out a huff of Jet and sat back in his chair same as her. She could have sat like this for the rest of the night, but after a while her pip-boy beeped. She looked down to see that the rads had gone.

“Finally.” Alysa slowly pulled the needle from the crook of her arm and made a face. “Shit’s worse then eating a gallon of ice cream. Makes you freeze from the inside.” Hancock cocked a brow. “It was a cold dessert… back in the day.” She unhooked the bag and pushed the IV stand to the side so no one tripped on it. “Alright, dinner isn’t going to cook itself.”

Hancock watched as his vaultie made herself busy. She’d washed up her combat knife before cleaning the meat she’d brought back with way more skill then he’d expected, throwing a few pieces into a bowl on the side. The rest went into a pot that had been heating on the stove. As soon as the meat started to brown, Hancock’s stomach rumbled. She cleaned off all the blood and started working on the veggies that she apparently had stowed away in her pack. Was that thing fucking bottomless? She bounced from her chopping to pushing the meat around in the pot. Along with the veggies, she chopped up some glowing mushrooms and hat looked like some kind of flower.

“Do me a favor, go into my bag, grab a pack of instamash, and porn ‘n beans. Oh, and a bottle of wine. I found some while I was out.” He leapt out of his seat and went for her bag, pulling out the requested items, the bottle of wine tucked under his arm. She put the knife in the sink and took the things from him, placing them on the counter away from the cleaned and cut veg. Alysa took the flower and mushroom and dropped it in with the meat. After a few minutes the smell changed. 

“So, how did a military girl, survivor of all hell, end up knowing how to cook?” Hancock eyed her as she popped open the bottle of wine, taking a long swig before pouring a little into the pot.

“Well, first off, my father was...” An ass, a piece of shit, a rotten meatbag? “Traditional. Us girls knew how to cook and sew and clean and work the farm since we were little. A woman was useless unless she could keep a home.” She swirled the meat around in the wine, pouring a little more in before bringing the bottle back to her lips, taking several long gulps. She handed the bottle to Hancock. “Then it was just me and my sister for a while, so we didn’t really have much of a choice.” She took a long sniff of the fragrance that was filling the room. What she wouldn’t give for some fucking salt and pepper. “and THEN, after I was discharged I was a housewife.” She didn’t need to look at Hancock to see the surprise on his face.

“You. A fucking house wife?” He snorted and took a swig of wine.

“Mhmm. A fucking housewife.” She turned back to the ghoul snatching the bottle for a sip. “Sweet enough deal. Husband was fighting the war, I had my own pension, plus he sent me money every month. I kept the house, cooked, cleaned. Made sure the neighbors didn’t think I was some kind of crazy recluse, even though lemme tell you they were pretty fucked up themselves.”

“That’s boring as fuck. Where’s the action in that?” 

“The most action I got was listening to the neighbors scream at each other at ungodly hours when they thought no one was awake.” That empty feeling had settled deep in her gut again. She should have stopped right there, put a lid on it, but the last thing she wanted was another explosion, and Hancock at least for now seemed to be harmless. He made a disgusted noise at the thought as she added water and the vegetables to the pot. She hummed as she checked the temperature of the stove. “Well, now we wait.”

“How long am I going to have to sit and smell this?” asked Hancock, stepping around her to lean over the pot. She slammed the lid down on it and shooed him away.

“Watched food never cooks.” she grumbled, ushering him towards the seats. He flopped down onto his favourite chair. “At least an hour or so. Longer you wait, the better it’s gonna taste though.” He groaned like a kid. She gave a light laugh, perhaps maybe it was even a giggle. He decided immediately that he liked that sound. She took her own seat, again avoiding the couch they’d shared their moment on the night before, stretching her legs out in front of her and playing with the end of her ponytail. That silence fell around them again, but it wasn’t long before she broke it.  
“Hancock?” He looked at her from the spot on the ceiling he’d been staring down. 

“Yeah, sister? What’s eatin’ ya?”

“I wanted to thank you. For letting me stay here. I wanted to stay close to Nick, and honestly I wasn’t too fond of staying somewhere I completely didn’t know by myself. Or stay in Diamond city.”

“Oh? Somethin’ wrong with the Great green jewel?” He couldn’t help the bitterness that coated his words. 

“I mean, I had no problem with them until this morning. On my way out of the Rexford I ran into a ghoul from my time. I met him… before the bombs. He said that they didn’t allow ghouls inside the city.” To be perfectly honest he was surprised at that. Most smoothskins wouldn’t give a flying fuck about that kind of thing.

“Didn’t always used to be like that, but yeah. They’re violently anti-ghoul. Once upon a time, it was a half decent place to live, then that fucknut mayor came along. ‘Mankind for Mcdonough,’ was the slogan that scum took to win over the city. Kicked every Ghoul in it’s walls out into the fuckin’ ruins.” He wanted to spit every time his brother’s name came out of his mouth. He could have told her right then that he was his brother. She had told him enough about herself in the last 24 hours, but it wasn’t something he was proud of, and he really didn’t want to go through the whole story. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for that. It’d ruin his high right quick.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” The sincerity in her voice took the edge off of his fury, but it still bubbled beneath the surface. “In my time, racism was pretty bad. I mean, after the civil rights movements and stuff it got slightly better, but it still wasn’t good. Homophobia and transphobia ran rampant too. People in the better communities liked to pretend it didn’t exist, but people were killed, isolated, pushed to the corners of society because of their skin colour, or who they loved, or how they wanted the world to see them. I guess some things never change. People are always looking to be the chosen ones.”

Hancock wasn’t an uneducated man, the school in diamond city gave him a half decent education, but what they taught was that the pre-war world was ideal, beautiful. Seemed like it was just a load of bullshit to him. At least in this day and age, a spade was a fucking spade. You knew raiders were about to pull a gun on ya, and a super mutant was about to beat your head in. There was no pretending here, and he liked it that way. Pretending felt too much like a lie.

“Ain’t that the truth, sister.” he replied, taking in a deep breath and laying his head back on the chair. 

Silence surrounded them again, and Alysa wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but her mind had been in a flurry all day. The shit with Nick? The Hancock Incident™? It had changed something. Everything since she’d woken up that morning felt so… real. From the moment she had woken up in the vault, she had convinced herself that all of this had to be a nightmare. She’d be lying to herself if she said any different. At one point she’d even taken measures to try and wake herself up. It obviously didn’t work. After a few months she knew it wasn’t some stupid dream, but it still hadn’t felt that way. It was always a rush to get to the next step, the next settlement. To dodge the next bullet or build the next water pump. There was a constant state of moving, keeping everyone at arms length. She said she didn’t really have any friends besides Nick, perhaps eventually Hancock but was that because they hadn’t tried? Or was it because she was trying to keep herself from being tethered to this wasteland.Maybe she had wanted to keep things free, like a dream.

“Doin’ alright over there?” croaked Hancock. Her head snapped to him. He was eyeing her from under that tricorn hat. She hadn’t realized she’d been screwing up her face in thought.

“Yeah.” She nodded before getting to her feet. “Yeah, mind just wandered a bit too far, y’know?” Hancock knew that feeling all too well. Chems helped him keep his mind on track though, most of the time. Others it made the whole situation worse, and he’d drink until he passed out. Or went to get a quick fuck. That always distracted the mind.

“Fair enough.” He wasn’t going to push her for more info. It wasn’t any of his business really. Hell, he’d already overstepped his bounds that he usually has with folks by letting her stay at the statehouse. Once he’d gotten back from getting the shit from daisy, he had questioned himself pretty hard on why he was doing this, and he couldn’t come up with a good answer. Guilt over making a complete ass of himself the day before? Maybe. Because she was a friend of Nicks and he was in trouble? Could be. Because holding her on that couch last night felt so good in a way that he couldn’t fucking describe and he wanted to get to the bottom of this bullshit? That sounded like the most likely option.

Fehr had ripped him a good new asshole about the whole thing, and he couldn’t deny her points. This was absolutely not like him to take in a stray like this. Maybe for a night to get some relief, hell maybe a few days of rolling around on his bed in a haze of chems and alcohol, that wasn’t unheard of, but this homey shit? Nah this wasn’t like him. Didn’t feel bad though. Sitting at home in his favourite chair, riding the waves as dinner cooked on the stove? Maybe he should hire an actual house keeper instead of getting charlie to cook, and getting Daisy to clean up. Maybe get her to wear one of those maid outfits he’d seen in one of his dirty pre-war mags, if he could find one.

What would Alysa look like in one of those?

Immediately he leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. His dick had given a jump at the thought. She would look damn good in one of tiny little maid outfits as she went around the statehouse, dusting and cleaning. He’d get a damn good kick out of watching the neighborhood watch drool over her. He’d get a damn good kick out of watching her himself, of course. That ass peeking out from under a little black skirt as she bent to pick something up. Maybe he’s purposely toss a Jet canister her way just to see it. A clatter from the doorway jerked him out of his haze.

“Sorry!” she called back to him, a small pile of guns and junk on the floor. She’d taken down the suitcase too and was trying to organize all of her crap. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He was such a dog sometimes. Maybe the fine ladies of Goodneighbor appreciated it, but he was sure that the little vaultie had a different standard of how to go about such things.

Eventually Fehr came up the steps dogmeat in toe. He rushed to his master, sniffing her, licking her face and then up to Hancock, nudging his face against the ghoul’s leg.

“Heya there, pooch.” he reached down and gave him a good scratch behind the ears.

“What is that smell?” asked Fehr, arms crossed as she surveyed the room, her eyes narrowing at Alysa who had organized all the crap she was carrying into neat little piles. Some were being put into the suitcase for safe keeping, the rest being stashed into her back to run down to Daisy.

“Dinner.” said Alysa, smiling at the surly woman. “There’s plenty if you want some.” Bless her pure little heart. Even with Fehr’s scrutinizing gaze, she didn’t falter.

“Dinner.” repeated Fehr, making her way to the couch that both Alysa and Hancock had been dutifully pretending didn’t exist. She raised her eyebrows at the mayor. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was definitely going to be hearing about this later. “Sure, why not.” She was smirking now. Fan-fucking-tastic. Why couldn’t she go play with Magnolia for a few days?

“Alright, lets get this table set up.”Fehr’s smirk widened as Alysa hurridly stuffed her belongings away, and pushing them up against the wall so no one fell over them, though with the start that woman was giving her, she wouldn’t mind if she took a topple. She didn’t understand the hostility. Maybe she was something to Hancock, but that was well beyond her business as a temporary couch surfer. She busied herself with finding what plates and bowls she could. She frowned a little at the sight of them. Why was everything in the commonwealth covered in a layer of filth? Though she didn’t think that Hancock was one for cooking, honestly. Oh well.

Alysa washed the plates and utensils and dried them. She heated up some insta mash and decided against adding the beans to the stew it was fine as it was. She plated the food for Hancock and Fehr, leaving plenty of extra for herself and maybe some later.

“Were’s yours?” Hancock asked as she laid the bowls in front of them on the table.

“I don’t eat till the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean. Nothing worse then having a nice big meal and still have work to do after. Eat up.” She smiled, looking at her handiwork before going back to the kitchen area of the room and doing exactly as she said, along side opening a can of dog food for Dogmeat and putting it down for him. 

Fehr’s smirk faltered only as she leaned over the table and took a mouthful of the concoction before her. Hancock wanted to laugh, rub her nose in her snide looks, but stopped himself. It would just cause more problems down the road. She had reason to falter though, if that was any consolation. The stew was damn good.

“I should hire you for the rail.” he muttered too himself as he lifted the bowl gingerly, scooping up eager mouthfuls.

“I only do home cooked. Kitchens are too stressful to work in.” 

The kitchen got cleaned, and everyone got fed. Both Hancock and Fehr went back for seconds. There was enough left over to give some to the watchmen that were in the state house. They seemed more then confused when she walked up to them with bowls of stew in hand. 

“Don’t get used to it!” barked Hancock from his seat. He was laying back in his chair, now nursing a whisky. He was absolutely stuffed. Ghouls didn’t need much to eat, honestly, but he’d be damned if he said that he wouldn’t enjoy having this kind of thing on the regular. Even Fehr was leaning back on the couch having completely cleared her second bowl. She could have gone back for a third honestly, but she didn’t want to give the vaultie any more satisfaction.

“So, a Ghoul walks into a bar, and the bartender says; We don’t serve ghoul here.” Said Hancock, leaning against the counter a few hours later, as Alysa was finishing up washing the rest of the used dishes, stacking them neatly on a towel. “And the Ghoul says, That’s alright. Is the human fresh?” Alysa snorted, both from the joke itself and the fact that this people-stabbing, angry looking ghoul was spouting dad jokes. Fehr had long since gone to collect the Neighborhood Watch’s evening reports and then slip off to the third rail. This left Hancock and Alysa alone. Again.

“That’s a good one.” She turned off the tap and dried her hands, hanging the towel on the handle of the stove. “How about this one. Why do seagulls fly over the sea?” Hancock shrugged, flicking his ash into the now empty sink. “Well, if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.”

“That was awful” he said through a chuckle.

“I got a million of ‘em, but I don’t know if you’d know what half of them mean.” He cocked a brow. “I mean like… most of the stuff that they were about don’t exist any more.”

“Fair enough.” 

“Alright, time to settle in for the night.” 

“Already? The night is still young, sister.” Hancock clapped a hand to her shoulder.

“The night is young, but the day was long. And tomorrow I have to go drop off some stuff to Kent, Daisy mentioned having a job maybe, God knows what that’s gonna be.”

“I feel ya.” He let go and moved tot he pile of blankets and stuff he’d collected from Daisy. “These are for you. Help yourself.”

“Look at this, I’m spoiled.” She smiled as she moved to the pile, fluffing the pillow. “Is there room service too?”

“There are a few services I can provide, sunshine. And some of them definitely can take place in my room.” He purred, leaning towards her. Her face turned a bright red and suddenly he was smacked in the face with a pillow.

“You dog.” She laughed, that same giggle-esque laugh she’d let out earlier. He could listen to that for days.

“You know it.” he stepped away as she tried to hit him again, missing this time. “I’ll leave ya to it.”

“Goodnight, Hancock.” she called after him as he reached the doors. He stopped in his tracks in the softness in her voice.

“Night, Sunshine.” he answered as he pulled the doors shut. 

Alysa watched the doors long after he was gone, still holding the pillow in her hands, her face still red as a tato.

“Pull yourself together, girl. You’re not a teenager.” she grumbled to herself as she got her couch ready. The Hancock Incident™ had taken place on. She laid down and covered herself, taking in a deep breath.

The blankets on her skin, the sounds of shuffling from the stairs, the echos of gunfire from the ruins. That was her lullaby now, and tonight… it felt so real. 

Goddamnit Nick. Why did that synth have to worm his way into her heart the way he did. She had a feeling that the world would never go back to feeling like a dream again, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

But then again… now she had a chance to live. Really live, in this new horrible world. There was no going back to white picket fences and fancy cars. Riders and super mutants were just a part of her life now. Patching up wounds and running for her life would have to go alongside trying to make a life here. Trying to make friends. She’d have to go back to sanctuary after Nick was better, talk to Preston and Sturges. Maybe have a beer with them. Maybe even get piper to have a drink when she wasn’t in the middle of her writing.

Maybe the idea of living in this world wasn’t such a bad idea.


	7. Making Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alysa never thought she'd become a comic book hero, but here she is. She talk with Nick for the first time since he'd been brain invaded, and good god does she miss him.

Morning came too early, as far as Alysa was concerned, but she had spelt through the whole night, and for that she was grateful. Nightmares were a frequent problem, but having Nick around, or Dogmeat honestly helped the situation. They’d both become pretty attuned to it, and would wake her long before the screaming started. Being caught in a random abandoned house, in the middle of the night screaming one’s head off was dangerous. Dogmeat was with her of course, but she worried about him not catching it in time, and she disturbed the whole state house. The last thing she wanted was the Neighborhood Watch barging in thinking someone had busted into their Mayor’s home. She shook off the thought and folded her blanket, and sheet, placing it on top of her locked suitcase in a neat pile. Having things neat and orderly was a habit she’d gained from the military. It was a gift once, but sometimes in a world where nothing could really get TRULY clean it could be a nightmare.

It was about 10 am, long before she figured the mayor would be out of his bed. She quietly made her way about the statehouse, washing up, easing her painful chest, getting dressed in her vault suit and armor. She’d have to clean that Vault suit when she got back. It was starting to not look so blue. The colour change wasn’t such a bad thing. If it stained a little darker, she wouldn’t mind; but it was definitely dirty, and no doubt would start to stink. Just because she was in the wasteland, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have a standard.

Leaving a note for the mayor on the table, she put on her pack, strapped in her weapons and headed out of the statehouse, with a good morning to each and every watchmen she passed. It never failed to amuse Alysa that they were surprised at her friendly greeting.

When Alysa made her way into the memory den she spied Irma on the lounge chair. Dogmeat laid down beside the door.

“Aren’t you an early bird.” She said, not bothering to get up.

“Well, when you have things to do, it’s better to start early I guess.” Another gift of the military, but seeing as she’d been going to bed well after sunset, 5 am just didn’t do it for her sleep schedule.

“Well, Dr. Amari isn’t up yet. Why don’t you go see Kent, he’s been babbling about you since you left yesterday.”

“He’s up?”

“Does he ever sleep?” Irma waved her off. The woman wasn’t exactly cold, but there was still a edge of annoyance in her voice. Alysa couldn’t blame her. Nick was in this stupid situation because of her. She didn’t bother saying another word, and simply made her way to Kent’s door, giving a light knock.

“C-come in!” called his voice from beyond, and Alysa did just that. She tried to suppress her smirk as he literally leaped out of his chair and to his feet. “You’re back!” he cried, grinning.

“Got back last night actually, but it was pretty late when I got back, didn’t think it’d be nice to be knocking on your door at all hours.” She also figured it would be better to kill two birds with one stone, greeting Nick and giving Kent his bag of goodies.

“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” He eyed the large duffel she was carrying.

“A few ferals, nothing I couldn’t handle.” She didn’t tell him about the fight with the glowing one, or the radiation she’d taken in. Alysa had no doubt that he’d beat his own ass up and down the street outside if he found out she’d been damaged in some way trying to get the costume. She put the duffel down and sat on the edge of his couch. “Sit down, it’s coming.” she said with a laugh as he anxiously stood over her. He immediately plopped down in his seat, hands clasped in his lap. He was a fucking puppy. “First we have… one silver shroud costume as requested.” She carefully pulled out the neatly folded outfit, handing it to him.

“There she is, pretty as the posters! The silver Shroud costume herself!” He ran his marred fingers over the material, his eyes were wide. Alysa plucked the hat out of her bag and put on top of his.

“Oooh, it’s not over yet.” She reached into the bag, taking out the prop machine gun. “it doesn’t work in any way, but it’s a collector’s item.”

“That’s alright, I got a working one that’ll blow you away, lemme tell ya.” he took the gun, turning it over in his hands a few times.

“And there’s these.” She handed him the photo and script she’d picked up on the way.

“Y-you didn’t have to bring all this back for me y’know.” He held the memorabilia like they were some sort of ancient artifact… though honestly at this point they were.

“No, but I figured you’d get the most appreciation out of them, instead of letting them rot on some dusty shelf forever.”

“You’re n-not wrong! I will - I do appreciate them. Thank you so much!” he was absolutely beaming.

“What about Grognak? Fan of that?” He shook his head.

“Wasn’t my cup of tea, b-but this shroud stuff is great! I… thank you.” There he went with those puppy dog eyes. How did someone so fucking sweet stay that way through 200 years of hell?

“You’re very welcome.” He got up and delicately placed the items on top of his radio equipment, she could hear the holotape of one of the episodes playing in the background.

“This is it then. Together with my gun, everything’s all set.” He put his hands on his hips and nodded.

“So what’s your plan then?”

“After all these years, the Silver Shroud is born again! But… there’s just one problem.” She eyed him as he turned around, looking a little less bright eyed as he had a second ago. “I’m just not Silver Shroud material. I could be Rhett Reinhart or-or his butler Jarvey Blake. But the Shroud is strong, capable.” He was going to ask her wasn’t he.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Kent. You survived 200 years in the wasteland. You didn’t get her by being incapable.”

“I gotta better idea of who should wear it.” Here it comes. “You up for being the Silver Shroud? You already got your own origin story and everything. What with the cryovault and all.” Alysa almost laughed. He wasn’t wrong. Her whole story of waking up and trying to find her kid sounded exactly like something out of a comic book.

“Why me?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking him, or god.

“You helped me out when everyone else just laughed at me. And you’re from the old days, like me.” If she had any doubts in being part of this ridiculous plan… he just blew them off the table. If she ever caught someone being awful to Kent, they’d seriously be in for an ass kicking. “You know how much things have fallen. How much we got to fight for. To make the place b-better.” The silence that fell between them was thick. She did know. She very well fucking knew, that’s why she joined up with Preston and the Minutemen.

Alysa never joined the military to help people back in the day. She had done it because her sister couldn’t afford to send her to college, but when she got called to battle, she had found herself wanting to defend her people. She wanted to make sure that her sister, her nephew, never saw the kind of pain she did on the battlefield. She had that same feeling now with Kent. How many good innocent people out there were getting fucked up by folks in the commonwealth that were just horrible people.

“So, you in?” Alysa dragged her gaze from the spot on the floor she’d been staring at, and let out the breath she hadn’t realized was caught in her chest.

“Well, if you asked me 200 years ago if I’d ever thought I’d become the silver shroud, I’d have called you crazy, but here we are.” What the hell was she doing?

“Great! The costume and gun are yours, but first I have to make some adjustments to the costume. Don’t want you running around the commonwealth with only a bit of fabric to keep you from getting shot. “C-come back tomorrow morning and I’ll have it all ready for ya. Then, you can patrol Goodneighbor’s streets, and I’ll call out any crimes on my radio station!” He got to his feet and immediately began digging through a chest he had nearby. What the hell had she gotten herself into. She didn’t even want to think about what the mayor thought of some masked vigilante working on his streets. Oh boy.

Alysa watched Kent rummage, trying to figure out exactly what he was up to when a knock came from the doorway. Neither had shut the door behind them, but Irma knocked anyways, sticking her head inside.

“They’re ready for you.” she called, and disappeared.

“Hey Kent, I gotta run.” He looked up from his trunk, seemingly having forgotten she was even sitting here. “I’ll be back tomorrow,”

“I’ll see you then! Bright and early.” His concentrated stare breaking for a moment to offer a grin, before diving back into his trunk.

Alysa followed Irma back out into the den, and then passed her to the stairs. Dr. Amari was waiting for her before she reached the bottom.

“Good morning.” it was hard to tell if she was in a poor mood or not. “Mister Valentine has been waiting anxiously for you. Seeing as to what happened the last time you were in close proximity to him, I advise you keep your distance.”

“How… how’s the progress going.” Alysa found herself nervous. Her hands clenched into fists at her side.

“It’s… going. My work usually consists of deleting entire memory files, not nitpicking through them to find bits and pieces. It’s going to be a long process, I cannot tell you how long it is going to take. Much like hunting down rats in a farmer’s field, it is tedious work, and I am only one person.” She nodded at Amari’s intense stare. It was amazing how small this woman could make someone feel. “Go ahead.” she gestured to the open doorway, but it took Alysa a few moments to actually get moving. Why was she so damn afraid. _It’s only Nick, and hes waiting for you. Move it._ She cursed at herself as she forced her feet forward. She was suddenly grateful that Dogmeat had waited by the door. She didn’t want the pooch to startle him.

As soon as he came into view, she had to stop herself from rushing over to him. He looked as he always did, calm and collected, but he was seated in Amari’s chair, wired from her machines going into the back of his head. He suddenly looked naked, and she felt like she had stumbled upon something very personal.

“Nicky,” she said softly, offering a smile. She doubted that it was a particularly happy one.

“How ya holdin’ up doll?” his smile was just as charming as ever. “Goodneighbor treatin’ ya right?”

“Yeah, it’s been something, that’s for sure.” Something was a vast fucking understatement. “Got kicked out of the Rexford.” His brow shot up.

“Didn’t take you for the trouble making kind.”

“Hey now, I didn’t cause the trouble Hancock did.” She eyed a steel chair from nearby and pulled it over, careful not to get close enough to grab. “He uh… he was very worried about you, Nick.” He made a face, whether it was confusion or annoyance she couldn’t tell. “He apologized though. An-and offered for me to stay at the state house so I could stay close.”

“The Old State House huh?” he chuckled. “Now _there’s_ some trouble. Watch yourself, Allie. Hancock is quite the charmer.”

“Between the two of you I don’t know who is worse.” He looked playfully offended.

“Jokes aside, He’s got his fair share of history. Just don’t want to see anyone getting hurt.”

“You’re the one I’m worried about getting hurt.” His concern was sweet, and valid. Hancock was… he was something, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Honestly, if she wasn’t careful she felt like spending time with the colonial ghoul could easily become a slippery slope to hell, and he wasn’t about that kind of thing.

“You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Well that’s too fucking bad.” She couldn’t help the annoyance in her voice. “I told you I-”

“I know.” His golden eyes caught hers. Trapped her there in his gaze. “Listen, I wanted to apologize. Amari told me what happened.” Immediately Alysa wanted to pull the collar of her vaultsuit higher, to cover the scabs on her neck. They were healing of course, along with the bruises, but she didn’t want him to see them.

“It’s not your fault Nick, we knew the consequence of doing this, it was-”

“It’s no excuse, you could have d-”

“But I didn’t. I’m fine. And you’ll be fine. And when you’re better we can look into a way to go into the glowing sea together. Okay? Ev- Everything will be fine.” her voice broke and her eyes swam with tears. Goddamn it. She wiped at them as Nick tried to stand, to get closer, but the wires in the back of his head held him there.

“Allie…” Stupid fucking emotions. Stupid fucking reality. Stupid fucking Hancock. The whirring of the machines, and occasional beeping filled the room as Alysa tried to steady herself, calm her mind again. She sucked in a deep breath and put her hands on her knees.

“I got some work.” She didn’t want to talk about what happened, she didn’t want to become a snivelling mess. She was a fucking soldier. “Gonna help Kent with some over the top scheme to make the commonwealth a better place. And Daisy has some work for me. It’ll keep be busy.”

“I hope you’re not going out alone.” he said, looking around for Dogmeat.

“Dogmeat’s upstairs. He’ll have my back, and if anything too crazy comes my way there’s a merc for hire in the rail I hear. I don’t know if I’ll need it though. I handled myself pretty well before I saved your ass from Skinny.” she smirked as he sighed.

“Not my finest hour, I’ll admit.”

“You make a dashing Damsel in distress, Nicky. Don’t put yourself down.” If his mechanical body could blush, he’d be the colour of a tato.

“Who’s the smooth talker now?”

“Hey, I never said I wasn’t.” His laugh lifted the heavy feeling in her chest, and she leaned back in the chair as Dr. Amari came back down the steps holding a hot mug of coffee.

“Are we ready to continue working?” Alysa wanted more time, she wanted to stay in there and chat with Nick all day, but she knew this was her cue to leave. She’d rather her visit cut short then come face to… ear with Kellogg. She had almost forgotten that the rat was living inside Nick’s head. He seemed so much like himself.

“Let’s get a move on Amari, I got work to do, and we’d like to hit the road as soon as possible. Right, doll?”

“Ready and waiting, Nick.” Amari watched them both, clearly wanting to say something, but stopping herself. “I’ll take this as my cue to get the fuck out.” The blonde stood and pulled her braid over her shoulder. “Take good care of him, doctor. Bye Nick.” She gave him a little wave and headed for the stairs.

“Be careful, Allie.”She turned back to see him trying to stand again, and failing. He flopped back down in his seat, giving the machine beside him a dirty look.

“I will.” It took everything she had not to run up the steps.

Goodneighbor was up and at ‘em when Alysa made her way over to Daisy’s. Drifters were wandering about, some she had recognized. She’d have to remember to run it passed Hancock to ask if some of them wanted a home in sanctuary. They were good for his business though, so she wasn’t sure if he’d like such an idea. The blonde had almost reached Daisy’s when she ran smack dab into a drifter. A bald man sporting sunglasses.

“What’s up?” He had some kind of lopsided grin happening, and immediately Alysa felt her fight or flight response kick in. Her hand flew to the pistol on her hip.

“Just another day in the neighborhood.” she responded, narrowing her eyes. He sounded so fucking familiar.

“That it is, lady. That it is.” He moved passed her, that stupid grin never leaving his face.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she called after him. He froze for a moment before turning to face her.

“Nah, can’t be. I’d remember that vault suit.” he snapped his fingers and pointed finger guns at her before moseying along his way. That did nothing to curb her curiosity. She definitely had heard that voice from somewhere, but she couldn’t figure out exactly where.

“Mornin’ honey.” called Daisy as Alysa finally pulled her gaze from the drifter and back to her, stepping forward. “Good sleep?” she smirked and cocked a brow. Alysa rolled her eyes.

“Yes, a good sleep. Y’know? Pillow, blanket. Sleep.” Daisy laughed, folding her arms.

“Ol’ Hancock is losing his touch.”

“Hey, I’m staying at the statehouse to wait for Nick. Not to get my fuck on, alright?” Alysa dropped her bag on the counter and began pulling stuff out. It wouldn’t be worth much, the guns she had to sell to Kleo were going to fetch a prettier penny, but every cap counted.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that honey, maybe you’ll believe it. Have you seen how red your ears get?” Alysa glared, reaching up to touch her earlobes. In protest she pulled her minutemen hat from her bag and pushed it onto her head.

“Now ya cant see shit. Now, about that job you have.” Daisy looked over the items, picking a few up to examine them further before dropping a bag of caps on the table.

“Super mutants have taken over the old Boston Public Library. I got a lot of fond memories of that place from when I was a girl… and human…” She pursed her lips, looking back up to Alysa. “You get those lumbering brutes out of there, and I’ll pay you 200 caps.”

“The old library. I hadn’t even thought about that place. I wonder how much is left.” the knowledge left in the library was sure to be of use, and it would be hell of a shame to lose any remaining books they had in there. “Hope they didn’t do too much damage.”

“Haven’t been inside in a couple of decades. Place was a mess, but there was still some shelves up and running. Someone set up defenses, and started up the old protectrons, but enough super mutants would make quick work of ‘em. Bullet sponges those fuckin’ things.” She leaned forward on the counter, arms crossed. “Might not believe me, but back in the day, I was a shy child. Books were my best friends.”

“I believe it. I grew up in a shit hole hick town. Books are a great escape from the world. I’ll see what I can bring back for you, shall I?”

“Sounds like a deal, and hey. While you’re there, could you return this book for me? It’s from the library. Don’t even ask how long it’s been overdue.” She reached under the counter and flopped a beaten up novel on the counter.

“As long as I don’t get nailed on the late fees.” Daisy let out a laugh.

“Honey, if you find a worker to pay it, I’ll send you back with the caps, alright? Now, it’s pretty rough there. Don’t wanna see you getting nailed for some books.”

“I got Dogmeat, I’ll be fine I’m sure.” Having Nick at her back had certainly given her an edge though. He’d helped keep her alive pretty well, and sometimes Dogmeat just wouldn’t cut it. “But on the off chance that I am looking for some company for the road, where would I go about looking? Ill that merc in town?”

“Hmmmm… I saw Macready, he’s got an attitude but can shoot a molerat’s eye fron all the way up the road. He’s probably holed up in the VIP lounge of the Rail. I’m sure you know where that is.” At least Hancock wouldn’t be down there at this hour in the day.

Alysa waved Daisy a goodbye and visited with Kleo. The weapons she’d picked up had been worth more then she’d expected, and she headed down to the third rail with a heavy bag of caps. Suddenly she missed paper money and cards. They weren’t logical in a pos-apocalyptic world, but goddamn were they easier to carry.

“Little early in the morning for a drink.” Charlie’s three eyes narrowed at her.

“Not drinking, charlie I’m looking for a Merc. Mac… something.” There were a few drifters in the rail, all chewing down some food. The place was oddly quiet without Magnolia on stage, diamond city radio playing in the background.

“Vip room. If you’re here to settle a problem, keep the blood off the carpet unless you feel like scrubbing it out.” The handy floated away, and Alysa hesitated. Did this merc have many people coming to kick his head in? Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.” she muttered to herself as she made her way into the VIP room. Immediately she spotted the sole man in the room, stretched out on one of the couches, a nuka cola in hand, his hat drawn over his eyes. From what she could see, he was a thin man, reasonably tall, but then again everyone was tall to her. His clothes looked pretty worn, he wasn’t a ‘stay at home’ kinda guy. Propped up beside him was a sniper rifle, easily within reach. Startling him probably wouldn’t be in her best interest. She cleared her throat and his head jerked up, hand flying to his hat to push it out of his eyes as he gave her a once over.

“If it isn’t the mayor’s little vaultie.” he said, righting himself. His boots hit the ground with a heavy thud.

“The mayo- these people do nothing but get fucked up and gossip.” Alysa growled at no one in particular.

“Welcome to Goodneighbor.” the man shot back, downing whatever was left in the bottle before putting it down on the ground beside his rifle. “Doesn’t matter who you are, lady. If you’re preaching about the atom, or looking for a friend you’ve got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun… then maybe we can talk.” Now that she could see his face, he was a pretty mousy looking guy, thin features. From his nose to his lips, to his face itself. Someone get this guy a burger.

“Friends seem to be in short supply now a days, but I get you.” Alysa slipped off her pack and sunk into the nearest chair, his stare didn’t leave her once. He seemed like a cornered cat. “Luckily for you I’m looking for a hired gun. Got a job to do and it sounds like it’s going to be a pain in the ass. I’d like to come home - come _back_ alive.” Home? What the hell girl, get your head together. “Trouble is, I don’t exactly know who I could trust with that sort of thing around here.”

“What about you, huh? How do I know I won’t end up with a bullet in my back?” A fair question.

“I guess that’s just part of the risk.” Definitely a risk befriending any sentient being in the commonwealth. Goodneighbor in particular. “But I mean, my shit is here, and enough people know that I’ve come to you for help that if I come back alone… they’ll know something happened. Cant say any of them are your friend enough to hunt me down for it, but I’m not exactly keen on making big enemies while I’m stuck here.” He seemed surprised by her response.

“Cant argue with that.” he put a hand to his chin, presumably in thought for a moment before getting to his feet. “I’ll tell you what. 250 caps up front, and there’s no room for bargaining. What do you say?” 250 caps? That’s worth more then the job! Though, if she was honest, if Daisy had told her the library was a super mutant den, she’d have probably gone to clear it out anyways, simply for the fact that she wanted to save as much knowledge as she could.

“Everything is negotiable.” He made a face, but she ignored it. “I could give you 250 caps right now, but any loot we find and carry back is mine, you don’t get a cut. Maybe ammo since you’re going to be using up some. My deal? 150 upfront, and we split all loot and ammo. Not including books The more you can carry, the bigger the pay out.” The annoyed look on his face deepened as he began to pace. “We’re hitting the Boston Library, if its any help on your decision. Apparently before the current residents holed up there it was pretty well guarded.” he heaved a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“You drive a hard bargain, vaultie.” he grumbled before turning to face her and holding out a hand. “You just got yourself a hired gun. 150 caps, 50/50 split on return.” And there would be a return. If Daisy and Charlie knew that she was down here looking for MacCready, and she left with him they’d know where to look if she didn’t come back. Maybe being the mayor’s little vaultie wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Deal.” she grabbed his hand and shook it, nodding at him. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to go back to the other chapters and fix some wording and spelling errors. I don't have a beta reader, and when I read I skip over a lot of words, which makes proof-reading a pain in the ass. I apologize ahead of time.


	8. Adventures with Mac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was nice to have company for the road, and MacCready? He was a good shot, with a bad attitude. And Alysa liked it. Mostly.

Alysa dropped off whatever she wasn’t going to carry with her, and made sure she had everything she would need. MacCready waited outside the statehouse, not wanting to intrude on the mayor’s space when he was probably passed out cold. He’d seen Hancock in the rail, chatting it up and having a good ol’ time with the drifters. He was a good guy, as long as you didn’t piss him off. He didn’t ask questions, and occasionally would hire the merc for odd jobs. He paid well too. Guess being the mayor left you with a lot of spare caps on hand. Mac was surprised though that the man hadn’t blown it all on his vices, not that he was judging. He had problems of his own and wasn’t about to go calling someone on their shit when he hadn’t taken care of his own.

They said goodbye to Daisy, no doubt for both of their safety. The vaultie had made a good point earlier about folks knowing that they were going together. He couldn’t say these people were really his _friends_ , but Daisy especially would notice if he suddenly didn’t return, especially knowing what was going on back home. It was a good precaution to take, and he appreciated it, even if the vaultie was only doing it to cover her own hide in case he was a lunatic.

“Alright, so before we hit the library, there’s an old police station down the road that I wanna take a look in. You can wait at the library if you want.” The blonde was fiddling with her pip boy. For a moment Mac wondered if that thing ever got heavy. Immediately a lewd joke came to mind about one arm being hell of a a lot more buff then the other, but he pushed it down. Between not knowing the nature of her relationship with the mayor, and the fact that she was at the moment his boss; he decided that it probably wasn’t too good of an idea to start making nasty jokes, specially seeing as she was so well armed. She had a pistol strapped to her hip, her sniper on her back and an assault rifle hooked onto the other side. He also could have sworn he saw a laser rifle in that pack of hers. How the hell did she manage to carry so much shit around?

“Precinct 8? Place wasn’t exactly locked down tight, I don’t know what you expect to find, it’s probably been picked clean a century ago.”

“I’m not looking for loot. Something in particular.” She stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing him to bump right into her. “A pre-war holotape, and some information.” She figured that if he was there he could at least help. He didn’t need to know the details. Dogmeat, who had been quietly following them sniffed around, stopping to look at his master for a sign to keep going.

“Fair enough. I’ll keep an eye out.” She started walking again, pulling the rifle off her back. The way she walked through the ruins, keeping close to the walls, holding the rifle ready for attack at any moment… she wasn’t just some Joe schmo that had picked up the weapon and decided to go on an adventure. When she came to corners, she motioned for him to get down before peering around them through her sights. It reminded him immediately of the brotherhood, those who weren’t in their walking tanks anyways. Good trained dog too. The pooch followed her, stopping when she did, sniffing around when they were on the move.

“I cleared a way down by the river yesterday. It’ll be faster to go through the commons to be honest, but I don’t fancy a tango with swan if there are any shit circumstances.” She stopped peeking around the corner to look over her shoulder at him.

“Are you asking my opinion, or are you testing me?” he asked, his knees getting sore from crouching.

“Maybe both.” she smirked. “Gotta test out the merchandise.”

“If we’re quiet, going passed the commons is fine. Going by the river could mean mirelurks, and back street apparel was overrun with raiders lat time I passed by. Could sneak passed them, but any wandering ass- jerks could alert the whole merry band of morons if we’re not careful. The church is pretty feral infested, but if we go the commons route, going passed the church is going to be a hazard anyways. Trinity plaza and tower is a super mutant corner of h-eck.” He couldn’t help the smug grin that bloomed on his face as her eyebrows raised. “Impressed yet?”

“Hm. Well thought out. Can _you_ be quiet enough to get passed the commons?” he barked a laugh.

“How the h-eck do you think I get around? I’m not exactly a ‘run in guns blazing’ kinda guy.” Fair enough.

“Commons it is.” she rounded the corner towards the Massachusetts State House and the commons. Even Dogmeat was crouched low as they passed swan’s pond. Alysa could just barely make out the swan boat armor moving around in the water. Her heart was lodged firmly in her throat until he was out of sight. One tango with the behemoth was enough for her for a long ass fucking time. Never would be way too goddamn soon. They kept quiet until they’d passed the church and reached the precinct. Alysa broke the silence when a radroach flew at her face. He almost snorted when she let out a short shriek before stomping on it and making a face at the goo that was now all over her boot.

“Did you seriously scream at a _radroach?_ ” he didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe as he pulled her foot out of the massive bug.

“Hey, When… where I come from, bugs were tiny. Little annoying things that fly at your face and you squish ‘em with like, a finger.” she pinched her fingers together as an example.

“Dang, I wanna go to that place. Where did you say you were from, vaultie?”

“I didn’t. It’s a long story.” He would have asked more, but her tone of voice seemed pretty final. He shrugged as they stepped into the precinct. “I need to see if there’s a working terminal around here, and a holotape.”

“Got it.” He turned towards the cells as she headed to the offices. He eyed the skeletons on the floor and shook his head. It was a common site in the wasteland, honestly, but he never got used to it. Surprisingly enough, Dogmeat followed him.

Alysa pushed open the broken door, gun pointed around the room for a moment, he kicked a piece of debris on the floor, making enough noise to startle anything hiding out of it’s hiding place. She wasn’t too fond of getting the lights scared out of her. She made her way through the office, searching through drawers and file cabinets. She found a pack of smokes and a lighter, but that didn’t do much for her search for Eddie. She pulled one of the smokes out and tucked it neatly between her lips, lighting it as she pulled over one of the busted chairs and powered on the one of two terminals that didn’t look like someone had taken a bat to it.

The hum of the terminal was good news, it didn’t sound like it was about to crap out on her. Of course it was password encrypted. Shit security though, guess back in the day they didn’t think people would be coming into a police station to bust into their evidence records. Boots? Nah, robot? Closer. Rover? Bingo! The screen of symbols and random words disappeared.

“Hey boss, does the name Eddie Winter mean anything to you?” Alysa’s head popped up from the terminal.

“Yes! Did you find something?” MacCready wandered in through the broken door, turning over a holotape in his hands. “Yes!” She gasped holding her hand out like a child, quickly swiping it out of his hands and turning it over in her own. “One down, many more to go.”

“You into pre-war recordings or something? The h-eck is that?” He shouldn’t ask, and he knew it, he wasn’t here to be a friend, and he had said so right to her face. He was just hired help.

“It’s… a favour for a friend. Something I’m looking into. Call it… historical research.” She stuffed the holotape into her bag. She was damn sure Mac wouldn’t shoot her in the back, but he was a merc looking for caps. For all she knew he’d skulk around and grab them up for himself, maybe hold them for ransom at a high price. Okay, maybe that was a little far fetched, but she didn’t want to fuck this up for Nick. He leaned on a file cabinet as he reached for the pack she’d left on the deck and plucked one out. She didn’t stop him, they said they’d share loot didn’t they? He lit up as she plucked away, eventually letting out a loud ‘aha!’ as she succeeded in hacking into the terminal.

Alysa fiddled with her pip-boy making notes on where to look next. She knew she’d eventually have to hit the Cambridge police station, something she was dreading. Her run-in with the brotherhood wasn’t unpleasant per say, but it wasn’t… fun. They reminded her of the military, and not in a good way. They were like the worst of the lot, the patriotic nuts that thought they always knew what was right and had their own agenda and ideas on what they thought was right for people. This didn’t even include their comments on ghouls and Synths, both of which got worse with the more friends she made that weren’t what the brotherhood considered ‘human’.

“Alright, I got what I need.” she said, powering down the terminal, so that anyone else looking would have to hack back into it again, not something that many folks were skilled at in the commonwealth. “You ready?” she stood and looked to the merc who was now bent over, Dogmeat at his feet, giving the pooch some belly rubs.

“Waiting on you boss.” He straightened up, smoke still hanging out of his mouth as he checked over his weapon. Alysa made a face at it.

“Is that the only gun you have on you?”

“Yup. Don’t need much else.” He shrugged, satisfied with his once over. Alysa sighed, putting her pack on the chair she had previously occupied, digging through it to pull out the laser rifle that was poking out the top.

“Take this.”

“I don’t -”

“I’m not saying _keep_ it, but hold onto it. Going into the library it’s going to be pretty close quarters. That’s a bolt action rifle, it’s a good weapon at a long range, but if you need something that fires fast and you don’t have time to reload it’ll be good to have it on you.” She held out the laser rifle, and he carefully took it, both a mix of impressed and annoyed that she had a reasonable answer for him.

“Righteous authority?” he snorted as he examined it, the name carefully scratched on the side. “Seems kind of pompous, don’t ya think?”

“I had no involvement of the creation or naming of it.” Alysa dug further into her bag, pulling out a small pouch of fusion cells that MacCready pocketed after putting his sniper on his back. “You can use that right? Point and shoot?”

“It’s not my forte, but I’m sure I can manage, _thanks_.” she didn’t miss the snarky tone.

“Hey, I’d like to get back to Goodneighbor in _one_ piece. Being a snack for some super mutants doesn’t sound like a fun afternoon. _Forgive me_ for making sure.” If he could be snarky, she could be snarky right the fuck back. He visibly rolled his eyes, and she shook her head. Putting her pack on and motioning for Dogmeat to come. At once he was at her heels as they made their way out of the station and towards the front door of the library. Honestly they could have snuck through the station, but she didn’t know if the station would be a feral ghoul nest, and super mutants were enough to deal with for one day. Upon reaching it, she found that it was locked tight. She made a face and pulled a bobby pin and a screwdriver from her pocket. Mac stood beside the door, leaning on it and keeping an eye out for anyone that might happen by them.

The streets were surprisingly quiet. It was good, because he could hear anyone coming from a ways away, but the world being too quiet always put him on edge. He frowned down at the weapon. She had made a good point. Alysa wasn’t stupid, he’d give her that, but this rifle… it definitely looked brotherhood. It bothered hims something awful, considering all the whispering going on around Goodneighbor about her and the mayor. It left a sour taste in his mouth, and he was damn sure it didn’t come from the stale cigarettes.

“So you’re with the brotherhood?” He hadn’t meant for the question to slip, but there it was, laying out the open. There was a snap, and Alysa smacked the door, tossing the broken piece of bobby pin to the ground and pulling the remaining piece out of the lock.

“Where the _fuck_ would you get that idea from?” she hissed, waving her screwdriver at him. Touchy subject, apparently.

“Back in the capital, the brotherhood are all over the place. Self righteous ass- jerks if you ask me, this is one of their weapons.” he stood up straight gesturing down to the rifle, but he didn’t let go of it, not the trigger. “I just want to know what a brotherhood agent is doing in a place like Goodneighbor.” Alysa raised a hand to her face, running her fingers down it, even pulling the skin as she did so.

“If I was brotherhood, I _wouldn’t_ be in Goodneighbor, let alone staying at the statehouse. Y’know, with a _ghoul_.” He didn’t look convinced. He stared hard at her. Dogmeat didn’t like this very much. He moved himself between them, growling quietly. Clearly this wasn’t going away without an explanation. “I’m a fuckin’ vaultie, Mac. Not _just_ a vaultie, I’m a _pre-war_ fucking vaultie that did a fucking favour for some brotherhood goons, cause I was short on caps, and hey I’m a sucker for helping people out. I was in the military long before things went to fucking hell and have on interest in joining a cult of brainwashed loons that have convinced themselves that they’re the one true saviors of the world by force.” She didn’t mean to get so angry, but she found herself stepping forward, the barrel of the laser rifle nearly pressed into her suit. “I _fought_ for this country, gave my _fucking blood_ for this country, _killed people_ for this country; _watched my friends die for this country_. Why the _fuck_ would I be a part of people that have decided that only people _they think_ deserve to be considered people should be here.”

Mac took a step back, bumping into the wall behind him. He definitely hadn’t expected that response from her, and despite her lack of any height, the commanding tone in her voice was strong enough to make him back down.

“Fair enough.” he said simply, not really knowing what else to say. Maybe an apology? Suddenly Alysa felt a little bad, seeing how he was watching her. She sighed loudly, shaking her head.

“We good?” she asked, glancing down at the weapon that he still had pointed at her.

“We good.” he responded, lowering it as she dug for another pin from her pocket. Without another word she went back to working on the door, making quick work of the lock and putting her tools away. She certainly hoped that they were good, cause they were about to walk into fucking hell. She hoped he was worth the caps.

As it turns out? He was fucking worth it.

It took about two hours, some careful maneuvering, waiting out some fighting between protectrons and super mutants, and one flying trip down the stairs for Alysa, but the library was finally quiet. She groaned as she got to her feet, glaring at the dead super mutant at the top of the steps that had caught her by surprise.

“You alright down there?” Mac barked over the railing.

“I’m alive.” She made her way up the stairs, rubbing her ribs that throbbed with every foot fall. “Bumps and bruises.” she had come to a stop at the bottom of the steps, landing hard on her side. She was pretty sure nothing was broken, but she was going to be sore for a few days. She reached MacCready who was spattered with blood, but he looked fine enough, a smug little grin on his face. It probably wasn’t his.

“So, I repeat my question. Impressed yet?” Alysa rolled her eyes.

“A little bit. Could have some in a little quicker before I was launched like a tin can though.” She smacked his shoulder. “Come on, let’s see what we have to grab.” She pulled out the spare duffel and they got to work quick. They picked up every bit of ammo and weapon the super mutants had. Alysa found an office with a bunch of cartons of cigarettes. MacCready let out a loud _‘woo_ ’ as he took his share. They stuffed their packs full, Mac staying away from the books that remained. Eventually he plopped down onto an old ruined bench as Alysa tinkered with the turrets they had to disarm at some point. It was going to be a long trip back to Goodneighbor.

“Sorry about earlier.” Alysa’s head popped up, narrowing her eyes at him. “The brotherhood shi- thing.”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, it was a valid question.” She replaced the cover on the turret and moved to the next one. “Way back in the day there were a lot of military jerks like the brotherhood. People that joined so that they could have power. Propaganda from the recruiters didn’t help with that situation either.”

“So why’d you join, if not to be some gun-toting blockhead?” He fished out a smoke and lit it, his rifle resting on the bench next to him as he looked up at the platform. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” She was still his boss after all. She stopped checking over the turret and stared into space for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before letting it out.

“I was broke. Mostly anyways. I had work. Was a guitar player at my brother in law’s lounge. Made enough to live, but I wanted to go to school, and the military promised that. It’s what they did, went to under privileged communities with promises of a future, and then spat them onto the battlefield. Indoctrinated, brainwashed.” She tapped her wrench on the metal of the turret. “Can’t say I wasn’t one of them. Thought I was doing good for people. Thought I was keeping my family safe. Nearly gave my life for them, and when I came home they nearly left me high and dry.”

“Well, Shi- crap.” Mac watched her, that far off gaze into the middle distance? He didn’t like it. No wonder she’d gotten snappy with him earlier. Everyone had their own story to tell in the wastes, hers was just a particular brand of messed. They fell into a comfortable silence as she worked, Mac pulled his hat down over his eyes as he rested, only jerking up when the hum of the turrets started up.

“It’s just me!” she called from a nearby terminal as he snatched up the rifle. “That should do to hold them for a little while if anyone else come crawling in. Seeing as this door was locked though, the super mutants had to of come from another entrance, probably the subway.”

“Let me guess. We’re going out the subway.” He sounded less then thrilled.

“Seems like the best idea, lock up on the way out. Clearing this place is gonna be useless if they have another way in that we didn’t check up on. I like the library, but I’m not too keen on another super-mutant tango in here. Enough has been destroyed already.” There were plenty of books, and she’d packed up a bunch of them in her bag, mostly classics that she felt shouldn’t get lost. A few novels for Daisy and - oh! Alysa rummaged through her pack and pulled out Daisy’s book, striding over to the book return terminal. She dropped the book in with a clunk and picked up the book return tokens, maybe if she collected enough of them she could get something fun. Though… just breaking open the terminal and getting the prizes would be good too. That would have to wait for another day though. It would start getting dark soon, and wandering through the ruins was not fun when you couldn’t see more then a few feet in front of one’s face.

The sun was just starting to dip behind the buildings when MacCready and Alysa walked through the gate to Goodneighbor. They both immediately let out a sigh of relief. They’d run into more super mutants int he subway, and even more on their way back. They seemed to be getting closer to Goodneighbor, but between the two of them, they’d either been scared off or killed. She’d have to tell Hancock to get the watch to take a stroll around and see if they missed any. The two headed to Kleo first, earning at least a couple hundred caps off of all the weapons they’d picked up that weren’t of any use to them.

“Glad I took your deal.” said the Merc, weighing the bag of caps in his hand.

“And you looked so mad about my offering it.” she elbowed him as she stored her own caps away. “You coming with to Daisy’s?”

“Nah, bring me my caps later. I need a fu- freaking drink.” He held her laser rifle out out to her and she gingerly took it from him before watching him disappear around the corner. She’d have to hire him again some day if it was needed. She HAD made it back in alright condition, and they did everything they had to do and a little extra. Not a bad day.

Alysa made her way to Daisy’s shop, the older ghoul grinning at her.

“Well look at that, you made it back in one piece.”

“You had your doubts?” Dogmeat barked at the woman, running around the counter to get his own attention.

“I always have my doubts, honey. Too many folks leave that gate never to come back.” She pet Dogmeat before shooing him back to Alysa, where he laid down at her feet. “So, how’d it go?”

“Library is cleared, I set up some turrets and locked up, hopefully no one will be in there for a while. Maybe one day if we found a safe space to store all the books that are left we could move them. Make our own library.” Alysa put her bag on the counter, as per usual and laid a couple of books in front of her. “Those should keep you busy for a while.”

“And you brought me back a treat.” Daisy picked up the small stack, examining them before stashing them under the counter before fishing out two bags of caps. She counted out some from the larger bag and dropped them into the smaller one before sliding it over to her.

“I aim to please.” Alysa sighed and rubbed her shoulder. “But I think I’m going to follow Mac’s lead. You wanna come get a drink at the rail?” Perhaps it was a bold question, she wasn’t sure if Daisy was interested in being friends, or drinking friends anyways.

“I’d love to, but I don’t trust the watch to watch my shop with me in it.” said the woman, eyeing the gun carrying ghoul that was standing by the gate. She pointed up to the ceiling. “I had that gate going for a while, its steel, out to keep anyone out, but it wont close any more and I don’t have the patience or handyman skills to fix it myself.” Alysa looked up, staring at the garage door before looking around. A stool nearby would be tall enough for her to reach.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Go for it honey, just don’t crack your head open on my floor. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get blood out of the cracks in concrete.” Daisy stepped around to keep an eye on the short vaultie as she climbed on the stool, tugging on the door a few times to test how jammed it was before examining the tracks it was on.

“Mmmmh, I might have the stuff to fix it, if you want. Not enough light right now though. Looks like the tracks are bent pretty bad in some places, the wheels are getting stuck.”

“Well if you want to have a go at it, I won’t stop you.You’ve cleared me of caps for the next little while though, I got caravans coming in.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need to keep busy or I think I’ll lose my shit.” Alysa hopped down from the stool, and dusted off her hands, giving them a dirty look as she spotted the grease. Daisy tossed a cloth at her.

“Up to you honey. But I gotta close up for the night. It’s been a long day.” Daisy took back the cloth and tossed it into a basket. Alysa waved her a goodbye and made her way into the statehouse. Fehr was surprisingly not in her office, and neither was Hancock in the lounge. That was fine enough for Alysa. She took a bath and scrubbed out her vault suit, leaving it to hang on the towel rack. With time enough without anyone hounding her, she shaved and braided her hair. She some time to herself. It was something that she didn’t often get a chance to do, so she was grateful.

Dressed in her jeans and a plain gray t-shirt she’d picked out of a briefcase at the museum, she headed down to the rail. She waved at Charlie as she hit the bottom of the steps. Glancing around, she spotted many of the familiar drifters lounging on eats, the place was pretty packed. Seated along the bar was Fehr, her eyes locked on Magnolia who was in the middle of one of her Goodneighbor classics. Alysa couldn’t help but smile. Since she’d woken up from that blasted fucking vault, she hadn’t felt more at home then she had in Goodneighbor.

“What can I get ya, gov?” All three of his eyes pointed at her. When she’d first got Codsworth, she’d found that unnerving.

“Beer, please. It’s been a long day.” Alysa reached into her pocket to pull out the caps.

“Here. On the house.” The handy lifted a beer from under the counter and plunked it down on the table.

“You’re not exactly the charitable type, Charlie. What gives.” Alysa picked up the beer, staring at it.

“Ain’t my choice. Boss’ orders. Now get before I decide not to listen to ‘im.” Alysa’s mouth hung open for a second, shaking her head. She hadn’t see Hancock or MacCready in the bar, so they must have been in the VIP lounge. She sighed and headed inside.

“And then this super mutant comes out of nowhere, launches her at least a foot in the air before she went down the steps. She took it like a goddamn champ.” Mac’s voice reached her before she stepped into the room. “Got right the fu- frick back up and went on looting.”

“Big fucking help you were.” She said, causing both men to snap their heads in her direction.

“Hey, I had one of them muties about to crack my skull open.” said the merc, raising his bottle in a sort of ‘air cheers’.

“I don’t know man, he could have re-arranged your face. Made it more palatable.” She returned the gesture as Hancock laughed.

“You got a fucking mouth on you.” he leaned back on the couch he was occupying, extending a hand out to welcome her to sit, and she did. She popped open her beer and flopped down beside him where she’d stay for a few hours, late into the night, shooting the shit with him and Mac.

Not a bad day.


	9. A Hard Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alysa makes good on her promise of fixing up Daisy's shop with the help of mac - and surprisingly Hancock who was just there for the view. The first Shroud contract is played over the radio and plans are made.

Alysa felt the ache of her body long before she peeled her eyes open. Immediately she covered them with her hand, the brightness that seeped into the lounge of the old state house was painful to say the least. She took several minutes of sitting with the throbbing in her head before pulling herself upright with a groan. That fall down the stairs was going to make today a fucking rough one. With the repairs to Daisy’s shop that she had to do, a stimpak would be useful. Actually it would be necessary. The blonde could barely turn her head without immense pain. She sighed as she sat back on the couch, surveying the damage from the night before.

Alysa barely remembered Hancock, MacCready and herself making their way up to the Old State House, let alone drinking the many bottles of booze that were now littered across the table and floor. Several packs of cigarettes were open, in varying states of completion. Mac was in the arm chair, head tipped back, mouth hanging open, his hat probably on the floor behind him somewhere. She smirked at the sight, turning to see the sleeping figure on the couch across from hers. He was curled up under his bright red coat, Dogmeat laying with his back against the ghoul’s chest, his arm tucked around the dog. The blonde had to stop herself from laughing. Hancock’s hat was perched on the dog’s head, his mouth hanging open as wide as MacCready’s. She wished she had a camera on hand, she wasn’t quite sure if anyone would believe her.

She moved quietly around the statehouse, trying not to groan with very step taken, her back had taken the brunt of her landing on the stairs. She eyed the bruises in the bathroom mirror and cringed. There were the distinct lines of the steps in splotches of dark purple from her ribs to her spine.

“Jesus Christ” she hissed at herself as she used a cloth to wipe down her skin. Another hot bath would definitely take away some of the immediate soreness, but she didn’t know what varying state of drunk either Mac or Hancock would wake up in. She wasn’t going to be a big fan of them walking in on her.

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t have minded too much if Hancock did. She did her best to fish for memories of the night before, and not a lot was coming up. She remembered laughing a lot. Mac telling some god awful jokes. She remembered Charlie coming in to tell them to shut up or Magnolia was going to come rip them all new assholes. Not wanting to gain a new orifice, they headed upstairs… and that was about it. There were a couple of brief flashes of moments, particularly ones where the three of them had gotten pretty handsy. Alysa was suddenly grateful that all three of them had woken up with their clothes on.

Alysa readied herself for the day, tying her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. Good thing she had all the bobby pins she’d been stashing since she’d defrosted. Sporting jeans and a once-white button up shirt she headed back into the lounge, giving MacCready’s shoulder a smack. He snorted loudly as he jerked awake, squinting at her.

“Wha- what was that for?” He groaned, patting the top of his head, realizing that his hat wasn’t there.

“Not so loud.” she hissed, scooping his hat up from the floor and dropping it onto his head. He gave her a dirty look, clearly not happy with being awoken so fucking early. “Go crawl onto the couch, you’re gonna get a sore back sleeping in that chair.” He blinked over at the empty couch before nodding and pulling himself from his seat, dumping himself onto Alysa’s couch, but not before spotting Hancock across from him. He couldn’t help the snort that burst from him. His hand clapped over his mouth as he tried to suppress his laughter. Big bad Mayor of Goodneighbor right there.

“You got a camera?” he whispered as Alysa took his vacated armchair. She shook her head and smiled at the ghoul and the pup. She really wished she did. She put a couple of stimpaks on the table, along with a two doses of Med-x. She couldn’t afford to be groggy while working at Daisy’s, so she just opted for the stimpak for her back. The bruises would probably linger, but hopefully it would take care of most of the muscle pain. Mac groaned and laid down, pulling the light blanket over himself.

“When you get up, I’ll be over at Daisy’s, you wanna earn a few extra caps, head over there, ok?” Mac merely grunted in response as he buried his face into the back of the couch. She put on her pip-boy, holstered her pistol and emptied her bag of tools into her pack. She’d collected them to bring back to sanctuary for Sturges, but they’d come in handy. She could probably jimmy-rig anything else she needed with what Daisy had kicking around.

Alysa gently closed the doors to the lounge and headed down the steps, fiddling with her pip-boy. She’d slept in passed noon, which was definitely something she didn’t want to make a habit of. Thankfully the stimpak had done most of it’s job by the time she’d reached Kent, he visibly lit up when he saw her.

“Good afternoon!” he jumped to his feet. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“Nope, still down to play superhero. Had a uh… had a late night last night, let’s leave it at that.” She suddenly felt more guilty about sleeping in then she had minutes before. He just seemed to be glad that she’d shown up at all though. The shroud costume was gingerly laid on the couch, ready to go.

“Well, she’s all ready for ya. It nearly killed me to take it all apart, but I got it back together real nice. I lined it with ballistic fiber in the important places, it should give you more protection then just a jacket, and the hat too. It doesn’t look so pretty on the inside, but no one is going to see it. Last thing I want is to send you out there and get shot y’know?” he gestured to the coat, ushering her to take a look, and she did. Man was skilled, she had to give him that. The jacket was definitely thicker then it had been, the ballistic fibre giving it a good amount of weight. Not enough to really slow her down, but enough to be noticeable. He’d fixed the seams almost perfectly when he’d put it back together.

“If I ever need any upgrades done to my gear, I know who I’m paying to do it, this is well done, Kent.” She picked it up and pulled it on, stretching her arms over her head and out to the sides. Without the extra padding inside she was almost sure it would have been too big. It was still too long, but honestly it’s just how it went with this kind of thing. She was not exactly a towering human.

“I- thank you.” The sheepish look on his face was adorable as he watched her put on the hat and wrap the scarf around her neck, raising it up to cover her nose. He turned, fumbling with something behind him. When he turned back around, he handed her a pair of sunglasses that would help hide the rest of her face. “Perfect!” he cried, clapping his hands together. “Now you just need this.” He dug around his trunk again, gingerly lifting a silver sub machine gun from it’s depths.

“And you put this together too?” she asked as she took it, examining it. He had done a damn good job, honestly. “What did you do before the war?” Perhaps it was too personal of a question, from her experience with the pre-war ghouls, talking too much about pre war life could be…painful at the least. She was on the same boat.

“I-I was a consultant For ArmCo for a while. And for the military. Weapons production.” He gave a little smile, an odd mix of proud and sad. “B-before the bombs dropped I had an interview at ArcJet systems. They were workin’ on some big rocket thing. Wanted to put them into production. Make a whole lot of ‘em real quick. Would have been a good payin’ job.” He heaved a sigh, and Alysa felt about two feel tall for having asked him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so nosy.” His gaze snapped up to her and immediately his grin returned.

“Don’t go beating yourself up over it! A week ago I’d have probably said I minded, but look at us now! We’re bringing the _Silver Shroud_ to life! Can it even get better then that?” God she wished she could have his optimism sometimes.

Alysa stashed the coat and hat in her bag, being careful of the hat and headed over to Daisy’s with the promise of keeping her pip-boy tuned to Kent’s station to listen for updates.

“Morning Daisy.” Alysa called as she rounded the corner. “Or… afternoon, whatever.” Daisy chuckled as she approached.

“I heard there was a quite the shinding at the rail last night.” She grinned, making Alysa groan.

“Chems and gossip. That’s what you should rename this town.” Alysa grumbled as she dropped her bag on the ground with a hard clunk.

“What else do we got to keep ourselves entertained? Personally watching you, the mayor and ol’ MacCready getting shit faced would be absolutely entertaining.” Alysa groaned.

“Oh god, I don’t wanna hear what everyone was talking about. Let’s just not.” Daisy roared with laughter, Alysa’s face going a brilliant red. “Nothing happened. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Pity.” said the woman, her grin turning into a disappointed stare as Alysa began to take out her tools, laying them neatly on the floor before pulling her tools out and climbing up on the stool to get a better look. She’d have to dismantle a few of the panels and take them off to get to the bends in the track. And that was a lot of fucking work. She sucked in a deep breath and hopped right to it. With the help of Kleo, she got the pieces down and leaned up against the outside wall, by then she was practically dripping in sweat. The June heat was just too much. Daisy had an extra pair of jeans in hand, so she cut the legs off and made some shorts for herself. She also cut the sleeves from the shirt and tied up the bottom so at least she wouldn’t die of heat.

Alysa had to admit, it was really nice getting her hands dirty again. When she’d brought the small group from Concord back to Sanctuary, the world was still fresh and raw. Getting back to work, having something to work on really gave her time to clear her head, and focus. Even in her spare time she spent hours working on the set of power armor she had found, even if she wouldn’t have enough fusion cores to actually use the damn thing. After the whole thing with Nick, and the Hancock Incident™ she needed some good old-fashioned focus.

As she was working on the panels, making sure the rollers were all working properly, oiling them up, and straightening any pins that were needed, Mac showed up. He looked a little more awake then before. When Sole inquired why he’d gotten up if he still felt tired he responded with, ‘I don’t know who snores worse, Hancock or the dog.’ This earned another roar of laughter from Daisy, who then chastised them for not finding a camera.

For the next little while, Mac was like a living tool belt, standing below the stool, handing Alysa what she needed, whether it be the blowtorch that she’d paid a drifter way too many caps for, other hammer, as she knocked the rails into place. Mac’s duster and hat were discarded on Daisy’s counter, a shop towel tossed over his shoulder. Daisy threw in some chuckles here and then as the Merc tried to keep his eyes on the work going on above him, avoiding any sparks from her hammering on the hot metal.

“Can’t handle the heat MacCready?” she piped up, and the Merc slapped a hand to his face. The merc shot her a cold look, but the redness on his face hadn’t exactly gone away. Hopefully the hammering was far too loud for Alysa to pick up Daisy’s teasing. Alysa was a good looking woman, he had no fucking doubt in that, and last night’s drinking had lead to some… moments for the thee of them. He vaguely remembered dancing at some point, the small blonde whose ass was just above eye level at the moment, sandwiched between him and Hancock. He must have been really fucking drunk. A small wave of guilt sprang up in the back of his mind, and he had to work pretty fucking hard to work it down.

“This side is done!” Alysa called, handing down the Hammer to Mac as she climbed down, taking a seat on the stool and swiping the towel from his shoulder. She wiped the sweat off her face and tipped her head back. “What I wouldn’t give for a cold beer right now.” Straightening up, her tired expression turned to an annoyed one as she spotted multiple drifters and watchmen hanging around the front of the shops. They seemed to have found something more interesting to do and wandered off.

“Well, I don’t got cold ones, but I got beer.” Daisy turned and disappeared up the stairs to her living quarters before coming back with two of ‘em in hand. She swiped hers up quickly and gulped as much down as she could. It tasted like a bag of ass, but it was a beer. She gasped for air when she finally lowered the bottle, leaning over Daisy’s counter.

“So I gotta ask.” said Mac who had joined her, only sipping at his beer, making a face at the taste, whereas Alysa had suppressed hers. “What’s with the tattoo?” Alysa looked confused for a moment before stretching her leg out and looking down at her right thigh. Oh yeah. She hadn’t really forgotten about it, but it had been eons since she really thought about the large tattoo. It covered most of the outside of her thigh; a T-45 power armor helmet with a wrench crossing behind it. There were a couple of roses along the edge of the wrench, and below it was the symbol of her final rank: commander.

“We all got it. My first squad. We headed into Alaska with the first deployment of Power armor. I was trained in Power Armor engineering, but taking back anchorage… was not an easy task. We didn’t have half the resources we needed, by the end of it, we were keeping the power armor together with spit, oil and hope.” Both Mac and Daisy looked like they were waiting for her to continue, but she didn’t.

“Is that how you got…” he gestured to the scars that ran down her stomach, disappearing both under her waistband and up under her top. Daisy smacked him good and hard on the back of the head.

“Didn’t they have manners int he capitol wasteland?” she snapped.

“Hey!” he cried, rubbing his head. “It was just a question!”

“It’s a story for another day.” said Alysa, the soft expression she’d had, thinking about getting that tattoo, the laughs and camaraderie on that day, melting into a stern one. Mac avoided looking at Daisy who was giving him a harsh glare, suddenly interest in finishing off his beer, he turned his back on them, trying not to cringe into the stones under his feet. Sometimes he needed to learn to keep his trap shut. Seriously. He leaned against the busted doorway looking out at the front gate as Alysa rummaged around behind him. He could hear the stool scraping across the concrete.

“C’mon Mac, we got work to do.” The merc sighed, draining the bottle and tossing it into the bin beside Daisy’s counter. Surprisingly enough it didn’t shatter.Mac returned to his spot beside Alysa, having a much easier time avoiding looking at her ass while she worked, seeing as he was avoiding looking at her altogether. This side of the railed seemed far more damaged, and several times they had to move the stood to get closer to where the damage had been. Even with the Med-x and stimpak he’d taken that morning, he wasn’t feeling the greatest and all the hammering was giving him a right good headache. When Alysa asked him to run up to the Mayor’s lounge and fetch her cans of purified water, he could have cried.

Hancock was sitting up on the couch when Mac had reached the top of the steps, a smoke hanging out of his mouth, his head leaning on his hand.

“Rough morning?” he asked, smirking down at the Colonial ghoul.

“Tell me about it, what is happening out there? Someone building a new house and not tell me?” he grumbled, hand falling away from his face as he jerked his head to the window that was slightly open.

“Just repairs, but close enough.” Mac flopped down on the couch, the banging was still audible, but it was hell of a lot quieter then when he was standing right beside her. “Alysa’s fixin’ up somethin’ for Daisy.” The mayor blinked a few times at him.

“You look like shit.”

“You don’t look much better there, boss. At least I’ve been earning my caps this morning.”

“You? Do a hard day’s work?” Hancock threw his head back and let out a short bark of laughter. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“What can I say, the view’s great.” Mac shot back, getting to his feet.

“What do you mean?” Hancock snubbed out the smoke and dug through his pockets for his mentat tin. He’d already gotten rid of his headache but the shitty groggy feeling was still clouding his mind.

“I ain’t sayin’ nothin. Get off your ass and come see.” He looked around for Alysa’s pile of things in the corner, grabbing a few cans of water and heading back outside. Hancock groaned, looking down at Dogmeat who was now sitting on the floor beside him. The dog gave a bark and stood, tail wagging.

“Alright, alright.”

Mac returned to Daisy doing his job, leaning against the wall.

“Get lost or somethin’?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Give a guy a chance to sit down alright?” Daisy snorted and took a can from him popping open the lid. Alysa stopped her hammering as Daisy tapped her leg, trading the hammer she’d been holding for it, taking a few sips and passing it back.

“Alright, Mac, Daisy as some empty cans, cut the tops and bottoms off, then cut it once down the side so it opens. There’s a bit here that needs reinforcement. Got it?” Alysa smiled down at him, the hostility that had been on her face a few minutes ago was gone. Maybe Daisy said something.

“Whatever you say.” He moved to the counter where Daisy had stacked a few cans and a pair of shears. It was simple work for sure, but caps were caps. He picked up the shears and began to pry at the can, not being particularly careful with the sharp edges. “FUCK” he snapped as he ran his finger across one of the sharp edges. He promptly stuck his finger in his mouth.

And then Dogmeat came trotting around the corner, tail wagging, mouth hanging open. Sniffing around the room. Between the banging and focusing on not touching red hot metal Alysa hadn’t noticed the dog, nor the colonial Ghoul that stepped around the corner before stopping dead, charcoal eyes wide as he drank in the site before him. Daily clapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh at the reaction.

Mac wasn’t fuckin’ kidding the view was goddamn beautiful. His little vaultie was perched up on the stool with far too much skin in view. It was a hot day and he didn’t blame her but _damn._ His awe struck stare turned into a mischievous grin as he got closer. Even on the stool, his head came about up to about her ribs.

“Lookin’ good there, sunshine.” he growled as she stopped hammering. Alysa sucked in a breath, flinching back. Unfortunately the fact that she was standing on a rickety stool had _completely_ escaped her. She let out a shriek as she toppled backwards and fortunately for her right into Hancock’s arms. He certainly hadn’t planned this but he wasn’t going to complain at having Alysa nestled in his arms, staring up at him wide eyed and red faced. He wasn’t about to forget that image any time soon.

“Let me down!” she hissed, squirming enough to make Hancock let go of her legs. Her feet his the ground and she twisted away, still red face and blubbering. “It’s n-not polite to sneak up on people like that!” Mac and Daisy could not hold back their snickers any longer. Alysa groaned as Hancock’s deep chuckle joined in on the chorus of laughter. “I - You’re all awful.Mac, what am I paying you for, back to work!” This didn’t help her situation at all. She watched as Turned her back and covered her mouth. Alysa felt her face heat up further. Goddamnit woman, you’re over 30 years old. Pull yourself together.

“You okay Sunshine?” Hancock smirked down at her and she huffed, wiggling her hammer in his face.

“Careful, mister, I got a whole pile of tools here and I’m not afraid of using them.” He cocked a brow at her, his Cheshire stare only getting more intense.

“Kinky.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“Ugh.” Alysa turned around, climbing wobbly back up onto the chair. “Since you’re standing there, grab the torch would you? And mac, I need that piece!” The angrier she got the more amused the whole lot of them seemed to be. Hancock stepped to the blowtorch, scooping it up and handing it to her. She snatched it up and began heating the piece again, thankfully the noise of the hammering and blowtorch were enough to drown out the gabbing group behind her. Honestly, she wasn’t too keen on hearing what they were talking about. Much to her satisfaction though, they fell into a working silence, even Hancock who had taken over Mac’s job of passing and holding things while mac was working on getting the can open. It was nice.

The repairs on the rail went smooth, and surprisingly quick, and soon enough, they were working the pieces of the giant plate doors back into the shop to put them back up. They tried to enlist Kleo’s help once again, but seeing as she had customers, it was up to the four of them.

“How the hell did I get roped into his?” growled Hancock as she wiggled his fingers under neath the first one.

“It’s called taking care of your Citizens.” Alysa shot back as they hoisted it up, though she could only lift so far. It was up to Mac and Hancock to push it the last of the way onto the track. “Look at it roll!” Alysa cheered as they rolled it down to connect to the last piece so that Alysa could bolt it back together. Hancock and Mac leaned on the counter watching her work.

“You stare any harder and you’re gonna burn a hole in her ass.” said Mac, smacking the ghoul’s chest.

“Just appreciating the view.” he said, his brow giving a playful wiggle.

While Alysa was tightening the bolts, she played the shroud station, thankfully she didn’t have to have the pip-boy too loud for it to be heard, seeing as she wasn’t hammering away. It was nostalgic, but at the same time it made her heart give an uncomfortable squeeze every once in a while. So many memories. Things and people that were long gone. She climbed off her stool and moved to the other side as the normal radio broadcast changed. It was Kent, and not just the usual chatter in between holotapes. This was a direct message for the shroud. Kent was quick, she had to give him that. Apparently a murderer named Wayne Delancy was hanging out behind the Rexford. She looked to her pack in which the Shroud costume was stuffed. If she took off right at the moment it may be suspicious. She wasn’t exactly trying to hide her identity superman style, but it would ruin the effectiveness of the cloak and dagger if every joe blow walking around goodneighbor know the Mayor’s vaultie was dressing up a superhero and going around wrecking people. No, she’d have to finish up her work first. Then she could slip away once they had dispersed.

“Alright, next piece!” she called as she jumped down from the stool, her attention back to Mac and Hancock who suddenly broke apart from what seemed to be an amusing conversation. She didn’t want to know… she didn’t want to fucking know.

This time was easier as they had a system worked out, Alysa would do the bottom lifting, bring it up to a manageable height for the two taller people who would raise it up to the rails properly.Things were pretty fucking heavy, and Hancock couldn’t help but be a little impressed at the tiny woman’s strength. Most women in the post war world could take care of themselves, they had no choice, but Alysa was different. From just looking at her body, which he enjoyed quite a bit, it seemed like she actually worked out. There were a couple of fitness folks in diamond city that he could remember, mostly pricks who were just wanting women or other men to fawn over them. Was it a pre-war thing? Maybe an army thing? Either way he wasn’t complaining. This time he didn’t sit out the bolting process. While she did one side, he found a concrete block to stand on to do the other. It was fucking hot, and he was over the heat already… and his little vaultie was attracting a crowd. Half of him was enjoying all the little birds waiting to get a peck at her, but part of him wanted to throw every tool within reach at them… and she wasn’t even his. That was fucked up.

“Ready??” called Alysa, looking up at the newly tied string too the handle of the , rolling door. Daisy gave her the thumbs up, and the short little vaultie leaped up to grab it, much to Hancock’s amusement. As soon as she dropped, the freshly repaired and oiled door easily slid shut obscuring her from view. “Success!” from inside, she door slid open again. “So we on for drinks tonight??”

“You got it, darling! I still cant believe you got this rickety piece of shit working again.”

“A good shot and good with tools. Jane of all trades?” said Mac, nodding up at her handy work.

“You should see Sanctuary.” The blonde took a seat on the stool, looking around at the mess they’d created in the fixing process. “Good work guys, and thanks Hancock for lending a hand.” The ghoul was leaning on the counter, a canister of jet at his mouth. He let out a plume of fumes and grinned.

“My pleasure.” he purred with a wink.

“Well you’re free to go, I’ll just tidy up. Mac, when I get back upstairs I’ll get you your caps, you’ve earned them.”

“Damn right I did. I also earned a bath.” he sniffed at his shoulder and made a face. No doubt they all did. Alysa and Mac in particularly covered in sweat. The merc grabbed his jacket, tossing it over his shoulder. “Catch you at the rail.” He waved over his shoulder, stealing one last look back at them before disappearing.

“So, you goin’ for drinks without me, sunshine?” Said Hancock eyeing the blonde.

“It’s your bar, Mayor. I don’t think it’s possible to not invite you.” said Alysa, watching as he headed towards the exit.

“Then I guess it’s a date.”


End file.
